JanKenPon
by Butterfree
Summary: What may have happened had they met under different circumstances. Series of three-shots. Gon/Killua. Because there aren't enough HxH AU's out there.
1. Fortieth Chance I

**Story 1: Fortieth Chance Part I**

A small body flung out from the appendages tangled on the bed barely a moment after the clock struck six. Six A.M. That was always the time Gon woke up. He could already hear the chirping birds and yawning sun as the barely audible moans of 'five more minutes' resonated throughout the building. Not him, though. When he struggled to brush his teeth and change while cooking breakfast all at once, he was beaming with excitement at the prospect of meeting his dear friend this morning.

Hinges on the door whined a second after the young teen burst out of the worn-down apartment, clad in school uniform and hands filled with fish snacks. He loved fish snacks. But sometimes he wished they weren't so hard to make. Not to mention- _ah, I can't be late!_ That promise had given his stride an extra spring for the next half hour he ran; only taking time to stop when he reached his destination in the form of a carved yet smooth stone. Finally, he swallowed the last of the crunchy crackers in time to let out one bold yell.

"Mito-san!" Bags and jacket left forgotten, he ran to his guardian and crouched in front of the statue. Energy still overfilled despite running several kilometers. Willing himself to calm down enough to run small fingers across the grave in content, he checked for any new scratches. Not that he minded scratches, of course. Gon thought they were an animal's way of saying hi to Mito since she was such a great mother. He smiled and beamed once more, "guess what Gonta did yesterday? I'm so proud of him!"

And there he stayed for the next hour.

Gon should've guessed this morning he'd be tardy. What was the point stressing out? So, he found himself walking back rather than sprinting as he had just before. His school was kind of weird. It was perched on a tall hill where students would have to walk up stairs just to get to it. Almost to show how important it was. Everyone else just said it was a dumb plot to make their students less obese but Gon thought it was cool. As he finally reached the hills overlooking school grounds without bothering to check his watch, a strong wind blew past him. It almost made his feet lose their balance up the stone steps but luckily he caught himself.

He shook himself from the leaf that landed in his hair, looking up. "Ah, it's windy toda-"

And froze.

And blinked.

There was someone else there other than him.

A unique sight, but a boy with naturally pure white hair and eyes a shade that would leave most seething in envy sat before him on the top step. Counting by his casual yet fashionable attire, he didn't go to the same school. Gon noted that the other hadn't noticed him yet. On the contrary, he seemed bored and what little attention he had was focused on his shoes and a worn out skateboard. The rest seemed to be reserved for something else that was on his mind. Something he would claim to never tell anyone even if threatened at blade point. And now that he looked again, he seemed sad. He just knew he was. The sight looked almost inhuman. In the next moment, the edging on bewildered look Gon wore instantly transformed into a smile.

At first sight, he knew he wanted to be friends.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Gon sighed in slight exasperation as he reached his seat and rested his forehead against the wood of the desk. He wasn't in a bad mood. Just a disappointed one at not being able to talk to that boy on the stairs. Just as the spiky haired teen was about to call out, the other had suddenly upped on his skateboard and left without giving him a single glance. He supposed he really was that distracted. Gon decided it wasn't his own business, but he hated that prospect for some unfathomable reason.

No one at school ever talked to him.

Even the teachers didn't bother scolding or calling home anymore. He recalled one occasion he showed up with a broken leg, hair tousled with mud and eyes gleaming from adrenaline as they struggled to shine past the drops of blood covering their sight. He had missed the king fish again but had the time of his life trying.

For the next hour, the classroom was filled with the scraping of boxes and snipping of scissors as Gon busied himself to tending his injuries in his own seat. Not a single other batting an eye at the sight. He didn't eat that night.

One reason was he was always late or missing school. But there were hundreds of other kids doing the same thing. The only other cause Gon could think up of after hours of trying to do his math homework was possibly because of Ging. Ging was a drug dealer who left Mito and Gon alone for sometimes years on end, only returning to hand over bundles of cash (not that they lasted very long with his drinking habits) and claim that he had a catch. He was a good one too. No one suspected him until that one night the fox-bear was let out of the bag.

Gon had problems deciding if there was anything wrong with it. Ging was Ging, and that's all he really cared about. Bringing himself out of his one-minute depression, the boy contemplated reaching into his bag to take out a bundle of newspapers. It's not like he'd understand anything the teacher was talking about anyway. And no one bothered him. So, he flipped the papers open to the section that interested him most. Not the boring ones that made his head hurt, but the short adventure stories written by up and coming authors.

It had started out exhilarating. The story spoke of two best friends who had done everything together. Then, one day, the older of the two met with her childhood sweetheart who then proceeded to make her fall in love once more. After taking her virginity, he abandoned her with nothing but a used cigarette and an empty room filled with broken promises. She cut her ties with everyone behind to follow him around the globe, despite his constant need to hurt and betray her at every corner. Then, when she returned to her hometown after losing track of him, found him waiting for her at her doorstep. Flowers and ring in hand.

A month before their marriage, the man had once again decided to call it off in a frenzy of confusion and hate. She desperately chased after him as he attempted to weave his way through dark alleys; winds fighting and car horns buzzing. Finally in despair and tears, the woman collapsed in front of a roaring train. Her best friend who hadn't seen nor talked to her in 10 years happened to be walking by and pushed her out of the way in time. Realizing the pain and death he caused, the man proposed to her once more. Then, they moved away to live their dreams together.

Gon put the clipping down. He didn't like the story after all.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Hi! This is Gon Freecss."

"Good day to you. We are requesting another deposit by the 14th of October if you wish the treatment of Ging Freecss to be continued. Do you comply?"

The boy sweat dropped at the machine-sounding woman on the other end, but nonetheless talked into the phone like he was being asked about the weather. "Yup, don't worry about it. I almost have the amount I promised to pay."

"Good."

"Can I talk to Ging?" he asked, a hint of hopefulness lining his voice.

"He is currently on medication and had thoroughly requested that you may not contact him."

Gon would be lying if he said it wasn't a bit annoying each time he was told that whenever he asked to talk to his own father. It didn't hurt him exactly. Ging was always a strange topic for him. He cared for the man; but never felt much attachment to him. It was all just…normal. All normal and leveled as can be, no half a storm or preparation for explosions of rage. He guessed one could put it that way.

"Oh, alright then. Thanks for the reminder Sandy-chan and we'll talk some other time!" He always asked everyone for their name.

"Good bye," they both hung up.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Many things were different the next morning. For one, Gon woke up a whole hour later than the last, toothpaste flying to the floor as the smell of eggs filled the kitchen just enough to make his mouth water. Next, when he ran out of the building with toast clasped in his jaw, his fit legs made a turn in the opposite direction. He rarely rushed to school. But there was something he wanted to check before being forced into the gates and once again ignored by every being in the vicinity. And he didn't want time to be wasted.

Without the need to catch his breath, he halted before the familiar pattern of stone as it crossed up the hill and into the sky. They were the same stairs he was on yesterday.

No one was there.

Staring blankly ahead, Gon knew he would just have to keep trying.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"S-Satotz-san!" Unlike the other employees, Gon didn't refer to him as 'boss' or 'manager'. The taller slightly awkward man didn't mind. He simply stared at the bloodied body of what once was an elegant-looking lady lying in a mess in the corner of the bar. Everyone else seemed to ignore the scene. This murder was a part of the everyday events in their boring lives. Not to mention they were kind of expecting it. The spikey-hair boy was much too honest and trusting for his own good. "Uh, why did you do that?"

Satotz 'hmm-ed' for a few short seconds before withdrawing his gun and standing up like a gentleman preparing to ask a noble to dance. "If it wasn't for your sharp senses, Gon, you would be dead by now."

To no surprise, Gon sighed under his breath. He was on break when a sweet old lady had offered him some orange juice to rehydrate his body after a long day of work at the bar. Since he was under-aged, he couldn't drink any of the free beers or alcoholic beverages offered to him for being an employee. He had no chance to reach a water fountain either. So, he was thirsty all the way through. But, one sip of the liquid and Gon spat it out like poison. He could taste _any_ impurity in food, ranging from flu medicine which could only leave a baby with a 20 minute stomachache, to deadly toxins designed to kill grown men in seconds.

It wasn't the first time someone had attempted to 'murder' him. He was Ging's son. Ging, the famous drug dealer who left countless families broke, ruined, massacred, and separated. These families often hired the mafia to take care of him so the bloodline wouldn't continue, or something. There was no penalty for either being killed _or_ killing someone from the mafia. So, after phoning someone to take the body away, work continued as usual. Of course, after Gon thanked his boss. That was most important.

Sticking his tongue out in practiced carefulness, he reached the end of the hall to the bathroom so his mouth could be washed out. Never swish, but oh how tempting it was. After rinsing it until the bitter-salty taste was gone, he filled another cup and quenched his thirst by gulping half of the large mug in one go. _Ah, that feels much better!_ Suddenly rejuvenated with positive fairies, Gon refilled the glass and beamed. "And just in time; my shift is almost over!"

He came back out half a different person and in a much better mood.

"Hey. How about it then, little chick?"

Only for it to be ruined as his eyes traveled to a familiar fluff of white hair slouching over an isolated counter, a completely wasted yet built man seated next to him.

Gon stared in mild shock. He stared as he noticed the way the larger man leaned into the body beside him, glistening sweat being exchanged from the touch. The way he tried to caress the other's face in an attempt of affection, a stench of his last night out leaking from every motion. The way his sleazy voice whispered sharply in the boy's ear words that no one their age should ever hear. "You're such a pretty young and hot girl. Are you looking for some company tonight?"

The way the white-haired teen's eyes slanted in hidden discomfort.

With no hesitation, Gon marched straight to their table and dumped the contents of his glass all over the perverted man. To the last drop. Bleh!

"G-AHH!" the sleaze-ball bounced up at a speed even Gon would be impressed of. Then hastily took in his surroundings to figure out what happened, the Mach pace a slurred brain could manage at work. A full 10 seconds, and he finally glared at the waiter while pointing to his drenched shirt in anger. "What did you do that for?!"

"Sorry mister!" Gon smiled sincerely, his tongue sticking out in pure childishness. Nope. No regrets. "What you were about to do is illegal and I just saved you from spending some time in prison."

"W-Why you!" The man clenched his fist, obviously pissed he was not only made fun of but embarrassed in front of that beautiful young 'lady' he was about to hook up with. Then, he inwardly smirked.

Head adorned with gravity-defying hair was tilted to express confusion. It didn't look like it'd last. But much to the shock of both him and his company, Gon stepped back a calculated amount right as the wind resonating from what was supposed to be a surprise punch met his face. Just enough for the buffed man to fall over in a heap of flushed and snoring meat. Silence engulfed the remaining two.

Gon poked him, "he fell asleep."

What he saw when he looked up wasn't that same boy he remembered on the stairs. Gon's curious brown eyes met with cold ice ones, devoid of emotion. Devoid of that childish boredom and deep sadness he could detect from a mile away. Gon almost asked how he could see with eyes like that, and if his doctor ever complained about it, but only stopped himself in awe at realizing a smirk morph its way onto the other's face. Some first meeting.

"I saw you." His sneer grew, not of fondness or playfulness, but a rather empty one.

The glass was set on the counter. "You…saw me?"

He nodded in amusement, peering at that spot in the corner where a dead body once lay. "That woman who tried to kill you just now…why did she do it?"

"Oh." Gon understood. That's one of the first things people always asked him. It was also always the reason they chose to avoid him before they even had a chance to become friends with him. He never lied though. "My father is Ging Freecss."

The boy sitting in front of him raised his eyebrow. No one hadn't heard of Ging Freecss at least once. What made the standing waiter blink next was that, instead of screaming bloody murder or coming up with some excuse to leave with his tail between his legs, the edges of his smirk grew wider. "I see."

It was Gon's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"So," he played with the glass that was once in said waiter's hands, still looking blank but by now was frowning, "you're nothing but a dirty son of a bastard that everyone would murder at any chance they have."

"Yup," Gon shrugged.

"Well, I guess you're bound to go wrong."

"Possibly."

"And," Gon didn't flinch as he heard cracks of the glass shattering into pieces in the boy's bare hands, "sometimes you want to just be rid of everyone, don't you?" Just a moment, a short but precise moment anyone else would've missed. Glints of nostalgia bled through the calm violet blue before the storm. One that could be tipped off by lifting a finger, or breathing the wrong way.

Without thinking, Gon asked. "Do you?"

"What?" For the first time, the empty tone dropped.

"You're not talking about me." Without looking away from his blank ocean eyes, "I can tell."

Suppose Gon should think things through more often. Because before he knew it, the dam fell to the waves of the tsunami. Shards of pointy glass were shot his way at frightening speed. It was only with his superhuman reflexes could he avoid any critical hits to the tender parts of his face. Pieces of material still drew thin streams of blood from his forehead to chin, some dripping into his eyebrow. Untouched remnants fell to the ground in an unpleasant ring of a symphony. He'd been cut three times total.

_Ah, that was dangerous. I should tell him he could hurt himself!_

Just as the painfully forgiving boy was about to turn back to the frustrated teen, he was gone. Perhaps he had been in a rush to go to the bathroom? That was the only reason Gon could think of that he would accidently leave a charred yo-yo behind. One that was obviously cherished despite its state.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

As predicted, everyone at school the next day exchanged frightened whispers at the damage done to Gon's face. Two of the larger cuts adorned his forehead, messily covered by a floppy bandage. The third, while shallow, traced his skin for far longer and had to be attended to with a cloth instead. Despite this, Gon's mood hadn't darkened. In fact, he was just somewhat cheerier that he had finally talked to that lonely white haired enigma who he was determined to have as a friend.

And once he was determined, he never stopped.

This resurrected burst of excitement lasted into lunch, when he pulled out an oversized cooked squid he had caught a day or two ago as he was talking to Mito. Relinquishing the savory bites of seafood, his sensitive hearing caught on to a conversation on the other side of the park. It was interesting. Or at least would do as something cool to think about until the hour was up. Finally someone who wasn't talking about boys or a party coming up on Saturday.

"Yeah, she was beaten day in and day out for showing the least bit imperfection in skill and intellect. Her bruises would heal pretty quickly and she didn't think much of them. She was the heir to a huge company after all." A girly with a slightly frightened aura quietly muttered in response to her friends' wide eyes. "It was all to gain her parent's approval. Of course, such a thing made many enemies for herself."

"Didn't she ever worry about her own being? Like, what if she got caught?"

"Maybe…but they say one night she was stabbed in the head by one of those many enemies out of jealousy, aiming for her frontal lobe so she would never regain her intelligence if she recovered. But they missed by a millimeter and hit her parietal lobe instead. The wound didn't kill but she was put on life support after the first surgery. The doctors said she would be alright other than some delayed responses when reading if she got better."

"Ah, that's a relief!" One of the girls who looked halfway to tears sighed.

"Not quite." The quiet voice spoke up once more. "Her parents claimed an imperfection like that in their heir would gravely damage their reputation, and the life support costed too mu-"

"I thought they were rich!"

She sighed. "They are. That would've been like a penny a day for them. But a penny is a penny, so they cut off her life support and she died. Her story was so double-bladed. Not even heaven nor the devil himself would accept her."

Gon cut the conversation off there and went back to his lunch.

_Life support, huh? Reminds me of Ging._

Though, no matter what, he knew he would never abandon his father like that.

"Hey." Gon almost spat out his lunch, chunks of squid coming close to escaping the crevices of his mouth. Luckily he managed to hold his precious meal in. So instead, he choked on it. The other waited patiently for the black-haired teen's show to stop, before bringing his hand out nonchalantly yet expectedly. "Give it back."

Very intelligently, Gon replied, "huh?" And coughed one last time.

"My yo-yo," daggers were sent in the form of a glare, "I know you have it."

He blinked, and then beamed stupidly. "AH…you're right!"

Awkward silence. Tapping foot.

"So?"

Gon tilted his head, "…so?"

"Give it back!" Don't get him wrong. He wasn't the type to lose his anger often. Actually, he was known around these parts to be perfectly calm. His mind was able to handle any dire situation with a blank stare followed by a right answer. Most people feared him for it. It's just, something about dealing with this guy who carried a freaking _fishing pole_ to school made him really pissed off. Then, he just had to drop the bombshell by grinning like a demented dolphin.

"Nope!"

"AND WHY THE HELL NOT?!" _Just calm down…breathe in and breathe out._

"Aunt Mito said that when you ask for something from someone, you have to complete one of their requests in return!" Gon had a finger up, akin to a kindergarten teacher getting ready to delve into their first lesson.

This reply only made anger vanish and cold blue eyes harden. Oh, so he was one of those people. "Fine."

"Okay! And my request is…" The teen clad in school uniform threw away his lunch. "Tell me your name!"

"…"

"…"

"…_HUH_?"

"That's a cool name. Is it Mexican?"

"N-No." He stuttered for the first time in his life. What the heck? He never stuttered! But, a foreign euphoria was overwhelming him, filling his common sense and flipping it backwards. It warped his view into a messed up puddle that he had no idea how to deal with. Thoughts of helplessness and stupidity were all he had. He probably just felt so sorry for how idiotic and blunt this moron was. Yeah…that sounded right. But it didn't necessarily feel bad either. "K-Killua. My name i-is Killua."

"I'm Gon. Gon Freecss." Gon was happy. Finally he could stop referring to him as that _white haired kid _or _the boy with sad eyes_. He hated attaching anyone he knew for over 5 minutes with such nicks. That was why he named every animal he encountered on his fishing trips. He ran out a lot, but that didn't stop him. Facing Killua with a small smile, he chanted, "nice to meet you!"

_It feels weird. Someone talking to me…_

They stood there as a second silence swallowed the space between them. It didn't feel awkward this time. But it felt funny. The frustration that inhabited the air when they met last night was almost completely gone this next day. Weird but comforting. At least, until Killua realized he'd been staring at Gon for _far_ too long. He flushed the slightest pink.

"A deal's a deal. Are you going to give my yo-yo back or not?" And averted his gaze to the skateboard dangling near his feet.

Gon scratched his head, recalling where he had left the treasured toy seconds before running out to eat. Then, through the cover up of an embarrassed chirp, he bluntly told Killua to wait right by the tree. The same tree he had been choking on squid under just a minute ago.

Killua shoved a hand inside his pockets. "Huh, and why do I have to do that?"

"Sorry, I left it in my bag near the side of my desk. Don't worry! I won't be gone too long!" Without pausing to hear any approval or reply, Gon dashed near lightning speed in the direction of the short building, crisscrossing his way up those familiar rock steps. The wind seemed unforgiving today. Randomly, he hoped Killua really would wait for him. It was frustrating; when he would try to talk to him yet the other would somehow disappear into the wind like a quiet assassin each time. It wasn't fair.

Reaching the rundown class in under a minute, he excused himself while stuck in a state of ignorance to the second presence in the room. Instead, his small body dashed for the tattered brown rucksack near the end, fishing pole strapped to his back jingling with every step. While his arms juggled the contents in the bag, pulling out scraps of unfinished essays and broken pencils, Gon swiftly side-stepped to the window. His eyes peered down. A tuft of white shining against the sun, violet shoes picking on the dirt impatiently, and a bored look rested still against the trunk below.

Gon grinned.

"You're in a good mood today, Gon." The aforementioned snapped his head to the voice, spotting a scruffy-looking teen in a wool hat and baggy pants. He seemed to be working on a science project of some sort over eating with his friends. Despite his appearance, he was clearly the top of the class.

"Oh, Pokkle!" Pokkle was one of the only few in a list who wasn't scared to associate with him; Killua being a new addition as of today. Yet while Gon was usually missing school for work, Pokkle was constantly in student council meetings and science competitions. They barely saw each other. So, the black-haired boy's already heightened mood raised even higher.

"I met someone!" He exploded un-expectantly, oblivious to the second meaning that sentence held.

For the first time Gon has known him for, Pokkle gently put his expensive pen down and actually abandoned his work to join him by the window in curiosity. Ecstatic at showing off his new friend, Gon raised a steady hand towards the lone figure by the tree, a breeze choosing to pass through the partially empty yard at that exact moment.

"See? His name's Killua!" He bounced off the heels of his feet, dirty rucksack left forgotten on the floor along with a pile of papers. "He's kind of weird at first but he's really fun to be with. I think you'd like him too, Pokkle! Nee, don't you think?"

Pokkle stayed silent, eyes seemingly dragging across the courtyard in a slow duck walk.

"…Pokkle?"

"Uhm, Gon…" He tapped the windowsill in mild confusion, the rhythm playing an off tune note for the two to hear. Then, he turned back to him.

"I don't see anyone there."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

**Before anything else, I'd like to thank Phoenix-Thunder for the inspiration behind Gon's school life in this story. So, thank you for giving permission to reuse that concept!**

**Hope the first chapter wasn't too horrible, confusing, and boring as I thought it was. And to make things clear, this story will be split into three parts.**


	2. Fortieth Chance II

**Story 1: Fortieth Chance Part II**

It was raining the next time they met.

Four days since Gon had handed the yo-yo back to him while hurriedly apologizing for taking so long to find it. Five days since one had thrown glass at the other and his cuts were healing nicely, leaving only small bandages on the side of his face so he could once more burry it into his pillow on sleepless nights. Six since their first encounter, the distracted of the two not aware but the second with the memory etched into his mind.

Around early evening where few were in the bar, Gon happened to peer outside while sweeping the beer-stained floor. It was when he was picking up a half-finished beer can when he noticed a figure standing out in the downpour. Clothes wet yet gaze obviously transfixed on the old restaurant. Gon had to wonder just what Killua was staring at. But shook it off as he burst outside with smile turned on and nothing but pure concern lining his voice.

"Killuuuaa!" The addressed flinched out of his stupor. Gon shrugged it off. "You'll catch a cold, you know! Want to come inside?"

When Killua didn't move, stuck in another strange trance, Gon marched up to him in slight annoyance. _He sure is acting out of it._ Ignoring the fact that he was just as soaked now, he leaned in from behind and made a funny face just inches from the other's head. Biting in a laugh, he then brought the used can close to Killua's recoiling and shocked nose. The reaction was immediate. A scowl formed on his face as two pale hands grabbed his airways in disgust.

"GAH, thab swel's so groos! (that smell's so gross)" Killua spat out invisible bile and shifted to Gon's grinning face with a dark glare. "Whab two do thab fwor?! (what did you do that for)"

Quite epically ignoring the other boy, Gon spoke out in sincere curiosity. His grin wore down into a contented smile. "Everything tastes boring. Want to come in anyway?"

"…" Arms rested back to their sides. "Yeah."

"Moron." Twenty minutes later and a cup of hot chocolate provided as a onetime treat by Satotz, the two friends were seated in the bar completely bored. Both of them were clad in towels longer than their bodies, shivering from the evaporation of wet particles which clung to their skin. Puddles of water formed ungracefully beneath them. "Bring an umbrella next time!"

"Hehe," Gon scratched his head. Killua shot him a look and took another long sip from his mug, savoring the warm taste of chocolate running down his throat while willing the smell of alcohol and cigarettes away. In comparison, Gon's cup remained untouched. Instead he settled for swinging his legs back and forth to pass the time. Apparently this downpour was keeping the normal late-night costumers from streaming in.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but okay."

"How did you know I can't stand beer?" Killua raised an eye in suspicion. It wasn't his fault. He was raised to be paranoid of anyone who knew too much. So there.

Gon shrugged almost as if to say '_is that all?_' but answered anyway. "That time that man was with you here."

The lone boy felt offended. "He wasn't _with_ me. He freaking mistook me for a _girl_ and then went on to _try_ to beat the living hell out of y-"

"You didn't seem bothered with it." He ignored the pale teen's ramblings, "until he whispered in your ear. His breath smelled like the same brand as the one in the can I just threw away. Not any of that light weight stuff Satotz-san taught me about."

"You can tell the difference between something like that by smelling?"

"Yup."

He made a face. "You're weird."

Gon smiled, offering his untouched mug to his companion when he noticed the other's empty glass. "So I beat him up, sort of."

Killua readily accepted, a catlike smirk sneaking into his features. "Not much of a competition." His new drink disappeared just as quickly as the old one. Akin to how the stranger-induced distance between them was closing at a rate neither expected nor minded.

Without thinking, Gon joked. "Heh, I think you were a much bigger challenge." Poking the spot on his forehead where cuts once bore.

Almost immediately, Killua's content mood slipped into guilt. Not an endless abyss or tunnel. More like a pathetic little puddle the size of the one drying on the floor. Still, it was enough to catalyze the urge to kick himself. Gon was only trying to help him, yet he out of his dumb and stupid habit decided to quite dumb and stupidly tell him off by emotionally jabbing him where it hurts. That was how he always handled other people. Other people deserved it. But Gon was different.

So for the first time in his life, Killua bowed his head and spoke. "Sorry."

The stranger now turned friend stared at the word like it was a foreign language. It was barely audible under the pit-pat of rain which released a melody of drowsiness for the world to hear around them. He was starting to doubt that Gon had heard him. But he was _not_ saying it again damnit!

Luckily or maybe not, the spikey boy's blank stare transformed into a grin. "You missed!"

Killua's head shot up like a bullet.

_I-I MISSED?!_

He knew he sucked at this sort of thing but did he really suck that much? And did Gon have to make fun of him for it?! Before his mind could explode into a tirade of profanities and frustration, the cause of this whole distress chose to spare him by laughing whole-heartedly.

"Throw harder if you're mad next time. If you don't I'll just dodge all of them and you'll be reeeaally embarrassed." He wore a look from the side of him Killua was seeing for the first time. That competitive Gon, who always accepted a challenge no matter what the consequences or who the challenger, was new. Somehow it awakened that same feeling inside him.

Before either knew what was happening, the small chuckles escaping his throat soon erupted into full-blown laughter. Killua nearly fell from his chair, letting his amusement take over every part of his body for that one small moment. Gon waited in awe. Just as one had been exposed to an insane side of his new friend, the other could watch him laugh for the first time.

It made him even more curious, about Killua.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Where do I…go to school?" Killua looked up from the pyramid of poorly washed cups, no doubt a product of Gon's carelessness and abundantly strong need to ignore the details. It was just past rush hour and both were mentally exhausted and twitchy. He guessed he couldn't blame him.

"Mhm!" Fingers picked at a splinter in the wood. They were inattentive, but never truly bored around each other. "You've been to mine before so I was wondering where Killua went."

The boy sighed. "I go to one, I guess."

"Where is it?" Stray wood bits went falling every which way.

There was a pause, almost like he was considering something. It disappeared when they both realized it probably didn't matter. "The Zoldyck Estate."

"The _whole_ thing?" Gon half gapped in amazement. "Wouldn't that be a huge school?!"

Not for even the second time, Killua let obnoxious chuckles escape his throat. He'd been doing that a lot these past few days, around Gon. Stuff that wasn't scowling or frowning or decapitating perverts and prostitutes on the street who looked at him the wrong way. And each time it happened he was left less and less bewildered by it. _Why can't I laugh once in a while?_ He decided one of those days. It was funny how his life was so spoiled but never once involved anything that felt natural. Yeah. Natural was definitely the word he was looking for. "Is that what you're worried about so seriously?"

The under-aged waiter popped one of the bottles open to pour some glasses for two particularly skinny men whom just sauntered in. "What do you mean?"

"You're the first person I've told who believed me so easily. That really tall Satotz guy was right. I don't know how you're still alive either."

"Good luck?" Gon answered with something even he was not so sure about. He waved at the men and politely apologized for stalling behind. Then, cunningly told them their mixer was on the frizz when the hairier of the two threatened to trash the place, before offering two appetizers free of charge to make up for it. If they were smart enough to read, they'd realize they were _already_ free. Killua smirked.

_He's not as innocent as he looks._

Then blinked._ Not that I'm looking or anything, of course!_ Mind drifting, he once again allowed his eyes to stray the dark room. But they always landed back to the same person in that noisy green shirt each and every time, a light pink flushing his cheeks without either noticing. He just spilled so much radiance in buckets of unicorns and rainbows that Killua couldn't keep them away. That's it and he'd leave it at that. _Plus those types of things usually make me sick._ Yet this particular lala land drew him in a magnetic field that kept his body coming back each and every day. To visit Gon.

It was always the same. He'd feel wanted at first, before drowning in stupid regret.

"Buuuut…" Gon hummed as soon as he was back at the bar's side. He really shouldn't pick at the counter anymore, but who cares. "What's this Zoldyck School like?"

Snapping out of self-therapy, Killua snorted. "Easy!"

"Really?"

"Yup, way too easy. I'll tell you something now! It was supposed to be the Godzilla of the toughest pack of gorillas. That prestige shoe of royalty that stepped on the rich who couldn't get in then smear off the soles of their feet like an infestation of bubble gum. I wanted to cry and wither in pain. But, no!" He spat in distaste. "I have a harder time dealing with you than their exams! What a horrible place."

"Isn't Godzilla a lizard?"

"And, to make things worse," the blue eyed teen's hands twitched as if to break something, "I'm the top of the school there! Both intellect and athletics. There's no one there to challenge me. It's _ann-oy-ing_."

Gon sweat dropped from his looming spot over the sink, cloth in hand and glasses being wiped. Only Killua could make that sound so, well, ann-oy-ing. Maybe he should be thankful. Or maybe they were both just insane. How ironic that he himself has been stuck on the opposite end of the spectrum his whole life yet didn't mind at all. He had pretty much convinced himself that Killua and Ging were all he needed.

Finally, Killua calmed himself down from his rant long enough to eye the red hue dominating the smooth surface next to him, its shiny finishing glaring daggers to anyone who walked close. It was like a challenge waiting to be accepted. "Need some help? You've been trying to open that thing for a while now."

Turning around, Gon noted the translucent red wine bottle sitting on the counter a fair ways away from his friend. He'd tried every way possible to pop its cork earlier that day; ranging from his full physical strength, to the obvious cork screw, to comically threatening it at knife point. He wondered why none of it worked. Especially the first one.

"Sure!" Gon beamed before getting back to work. "Thanks Killua!"

The addressed shrugged. He had nothing to do anyway and it was better than offering to help serve any of those smelly guys. Though it didn't look like the people who worked here got fired for killing any of them. So that was a bonus. Ungracefully snatching the brand from its perch, Killua made to pull the cork out in one swift movement. Instead the back of his palm met with the wall as it was clear the friction between the cork and glass had won out over his grip on the lid. The heck?!

"W-What the hell, Gon?!" He tried again, annoyed grunts being thrown out of his throat. This time the hand holding tightly onto the body fell short of the mark and smacked into his thigh. Killua, winding up for another try, quite seriously stated: "This is no normal bottle."

Gon nodded in equal earnest. His eyes only fell off the beer-reeking dishes in the sink for a moment, but the cracks were enough to catch his attention. "Ah, Killu-"

The sound of breaking glass resonated between the two. It honestly seemed harmonious to the rushing water and clanking plates for that one second. At the same time shards of red mended into Killua's palm in an equally harmonious pattern of blood and rock. The spilled alcohol no doubt making the cuts sting worse.

"Oh, of course the bottle breaks BEFORE the dumb cork does!" Killua fumed, more concerned of his pride than the wounds, baby streams of red literally everywhere but the kitchen sink. But he didn't have to worry very long. Just as quickly, all those feelings of frustration and embarrassment were nicked off as he raised his sight to see Gon dropping everything to make a grab for his hands. Nothing but pure concern in his actions.

_Panic._

Eyes widening, Killua pulled them away.

Gon tilted his head. For a fraction of a second he allowed a very _very mild_ hint of hurt to invade his posture, but didn't ask anymore. "Nee, Killua. Are your hands okay?"

Empty tone. "They're fine."

"Do you need help patching them up?"

"It's okay." No. It was definitely a sad one.

"Oh." Was all Gon had to reply to that, scurrying to collect a mop and clean up the mess.

They never spoke of the incident again.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was 4 in the morning when Gon awoke to the fusty ringtone of the beige device on his bedside. He was forced to sleepily yawn the last of his dreams of playing with Gonta away. The boy could tell immediately that it was not his alarm clock. His alarm clock usually rang right when his dreams reached the part when the fox bear fell down the incline and right into the river of waving fish and chirping birds. But the fact that Gon had to leave right when he just began fishing for the poor cub made him feel ten times worse.

It wasn't a number he recognized. Being a strange teen meant he never received any phone calls that weren't from the hospital or work. So getting one on this occasion almost immediately caught his full attention.

"Hello? This is Gon Freecss." Sleep not quite gone but attention presentable.

"Hey." Who was this?

"Who are you?" Gon snapped, not hostile but curious.

"Listen." The voice sounded agitated but mostly fell on boredom. Clicks in the background sounded. "I don't really want to talk to you either."

"Um, okay-"

"Just stop it." Was all Gon heard and all he was going to hear for the next 3 minutes. This was a weird thing to do first thing in the morning. Not even the sun was up but it was clear that neither party was planning to hang up and get back to bed anytime soon. Despite the deafening silence, his simple instincts told him their conversation wasn't quite over yet. That didn't mean they were blank either.

Suddenly, Gon just knew. "You're Ging."

"You're getting too sharp for your own good." He sounded akin to someone picking their nose while blabbering about a teacher they didn't like. Being Gon, the first thought that crossed his mind was_ Thank goodness._ He supposed this meant Ging didn't dislike him as much as most thought. Actually, a wave of relief washed over him at the revelation. He'd always thought his father would answer one of his requests to speak with him one day, hate lacing his voice and mind driven off the end of insanity. He was stuck in a hospital after all. And that place was really boring.

Taking a deep breath, Gon nearly exploded into the phone in a parade of words. "Well, I'm Gon Freecss! It's great to finally meet you, Gi-"

"Just stop." They repeated once more, interrupting the other mid-sentence. "Everything."

Sunlight peaked over the horizon to meet with brown eyes. "Do I talk too much?"

"Yes." Ging confirmed; the sounds of typing once again emerging from the other end. It seemed he was preoccupied with something at the same time. "You're also too optimistic. You never see the bad in anyone you come across until it's too late, all because you can't get over how you're too selfish of others worrying about you. At the last second these mishaps will come crashing down on your cheery face before you can even do anything. Then, after you recover and find out you're okay, no one will be around you anymore since they're sick of how your too bold and helpful self gets them into trouble each and every time. You're too of many things, Gon."

The other stayed silent to the usually bright morning.

"Most of all…" The older man had his full attention on their talk this time. "You're too forgiving to jerks like me. So I want you to stop."

"What are you writing?" Gon blurted randomly.

Even over the phone, he could tell that Ging had an eyebrow raised. "It's none of your business."

"Why?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

The boy tapped the tabletop in alarmingly deep thought, blankets left on the floor in dishevel, pillow scattered against the wall unwashed, and sheets falling to the side from excessive lack of care. Not more than a second later, Gon resolutely held the receiver close to his face and blew a raspberry. "Then I guess you can't tell me what to do!" And hung up.

Neither had anything left to say.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Those who worked at Satotz's bar didn't get breaks often. It was either work the late night shift straight until morning right before delving into rush hour for over 30 bulky drunks at a time, all while running on a 5 minute breakfast, or don't work there at all. It was almost like the man enjoyed testing his employees in some cruel game. Gon was one of around three or four who'd managed to keep his job past a week. Not only that but he was now teetering on receiving his seventh monthly paycheck. The rest were newly-hired oblivious preteens hoping for a chance to experience the night life while being paid at the same time. Too bad for them. Since all the waiters were paid a hefty sum for their daily overtime. Coincidentally, today wasn't one of those days.

Gon skipped up the steps three at a time to a place he hadn't visited in two weeks. It was a shame but it wasn't until a few days after his talk with Ging had he realized that he accidentally forgot to visit Mito like he was supposed to that afternoon. That was before being told that his shift practically wouldn't be ending until Tuesday. Head resting on the cash to get a full 5 hours of sleep and everything. Now miraculously, Satotz actually gave him a day off.

And he wasn't alone for once.

"Killua, hurry up!" Excited couldn't begin to cover how the black-haired hyper ball was feeling then. His days usually consisted of dreams of his imaginary friend Gonta and what he had for lunch. That was always all he had to talk about to Mito. Once in a while he'd find a river king and be able to visit that old man across town with the poor family but good children. The looks on their faces when he offered the delicacy was something Mito-san always told him to cherish. Despite his grinning face and Brownian presence, Gon couldn't help but feel a little guilty for not having more to say to the woman who loved and raised him.

It was different now. He really did have someone with him. And it filled him to the core with energy to know that he could finally call him his friend. Not only for himself but he knew for his aunt too.

A few meters below, Killua lagged behind the childish adult. His skateboard dragged on the ground just lightly to keep it from being damaged but still hard enough to create loud scrapping noise against the neglected gravel. White yet bloodied bandages wrapped around his fingers where blood once adorned. Needless to say, he was embarrassed about what took place just moments before. He could only thank whoever was watching over them that Gon was as thick as his old man's hair or he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

_You have a day off? Finally!_

_Mhm. What do you-AH! I forgot there's something important I promised to do._

_Ugh, and how long is this going to take?_

_Don't worry, Killua. You can come too! There's someone I want you to meet._

_Fine. Is he cool?_

_Mito's a she, Killua. You'll really like her. I love her!_

…

_Killua…?_

"Damnit Gon. Tell me she's your freaking Aunt next time." The slouching bundle of frustration cursed under his breath for the umpteenth time. He didn't care if Gon could hear him. Actually, he probably did. But he didn't even know why he was so pissed. Something about hearing those words come out of that honest face made him want to kick a puppy.

Anyone Gon said he loved was probably loved _a whole lot_.

This overflowing surge of anger is now; it isn't painful. Killua welcomed it as an efficient distraction. How he was feeling then was leagues different. It was like his mind shut off for a brief second, letting every part of his brain collide with no direction or command. Every hair on his head stood and mutated into something unseen yet remained attached like some sick disease. Every molecule of his skin froze and died horrible cell deaths just after being born. Never mind talk. From this one moment of insanity, he was sure his heart had suffered the most damage.

And it was so utterly unlike him.

_This is so lame._ Sometimes he wished he wasn't a genius. Then he could remain ignorant like Gon did. But he wasn't, so that rousing suspicion he's had for everything happening to him these past few weeks kept growing against his protests. At the same time, he refused to accept it. No; absolute _no way._

"KILL-UA~!" Gon's face appeared mere inches from his.

"GAH!" He jumped back at least ten feet, almost losing grip on the stairs beneath him.

The fishing pole-wielding boy grinned at the other's antics, bouncing up and down while pointing further up the slope. "We're here! Mito-san's really excited to meet you, I bet!"

At seeing his friend dash the rest of the way, Killua relaxed from his tense posture and sighed away his thoughts for something less embarrassing. He wondered what kind of person this Mito was. Probably like those TV show grannies that smile to the poor and work for soup kitchens in their spare time but never really existed. A woman who was honest and motherly enough to raise someone like Gon. Basically, the opposite of his own mother. She probably had gentle eyes and an apron, freshly baked cookies on hold and…

…she was a rock.

"-but I'm really sorry for not visiting last week!" Gon held his hands together in prayer, sheepish smile in place. Blue jays landed on the broken grave stone and chirped, as if extensions of his aunt's will themselves greeting him on this beautiful day. "It's not really an excuse but a lot happened. First though, I want you to meet Killua!"

Before the white-haired boy knew what was going on, he was being shown off to this rock by a hyperactive Gon and a speech of messy praise. Nothing but earnest radiated from every word. "He's really cool and fun to be around with. I hope we stay together for a long time." Killua blushed. Stupid pale skin. "But, most importantly, he's my best friend!"

Then he choked. Stupid saliva. "I-Idiot! Don't say something so embarrassing!"

"Huuh?" Gon sounded annoyed but was honestly amused. "But it's true!"

"That doesn't mean you have to say it so bluntly!" Killua's halfhearted glare hardened at the sight of his friend waving it off with a laugh. Then, Gon went on talking to Mito while ignoring Killua's occasional bashful quips. Yes, he was definitely hard to deal with. In particular when he started talking about that drunken guy who mistook him for a girl and tried to ask him out. It happened a lot.

There was a moment much later when the three of them plunged into silence. Gon was taking pleasure from simply watching the birds and squirrels playing near the shrine as Killua stared up at the cloudy sky and heightened winds. It looked like it might rain soon. No doubt the both of them sensed it as soon as they began hitting the hill.

Out of nowhere, "I met Ging for the first time."

Killua's head shot down in mild surprise. If he wasn't mistaken, he remembered him saying that Ging Freecss was his father. Since their first encounter, he never paid much mind to it. It had nothing to do with who Gon was now and didn't affect their time together.

Ging Freecss.

The stories of the misery and pain he caused mafia families and those innocent women and children associated with them were endless. Brutal and dishonest, they weren't that interesting to Killua. All were generic whispers of hate and warped expectations, all except one. A tale of how he abandoned his child at two years old in exchange for the luxury of being the boss of a drug dealing company. He was stealthy and his business was sky rocketing. No one could figure out who he was. That is until one night he was driven home drunk by an angry friend only to have the side of their car rammed into by an assassin sent to kill him. The woman died, yet Ging's whereabouts after remained unknown. It wasn't until then that the truth of Ging Freecss was revealed to the world.

So this is what happened to that child. Last living relative dead and still under the legal care of the careless man.

Without a word, Killua made to pick up his skateboard and give Gon some privacy.

"Wait, Killua." Only to stop at the weakening voice of his once enthusiastic friend. "I want you to hear this too."

There was no point arguing once he made up his mind. So the slightly older boy patiently made room for himself against the stone wall. Gon turned back with an appreciative smile; a smile that was returned along with a brotherly thumb up. Booming thunder ahead warned those below of the oncoming storm, but neither paid it any attention.

"He doesn't hate me," was the first thing out of his mouth. "But I thought he'd be a lot smarter."

Killua had to smile. _Gon calling someone dumb?_

"You know…I was told my whole life since Mito-san died that he was one of the most cunning and heartless men on the planet. Not even human." The squirrels and birds scurried away at the first drizzle of rain, making haste to reach their homes before their furs and feathers became too wet. "Most of those people never even met him. I was no different until he called me a few days ago."

A second flash ripped across the sky, yet Killua kept his gaze on Gon and Gon only; just as it's always been. How he could smile like that while revealing such things was a mystery to him.

"Ging phoned me saying he never wanted to speak to me again, except now to say one thing." The voice paused. To anyone else it would've looked like he was taking a moment to pick the right words. But to his self-claimed best friend he was simply elongating his time together with the one who raised him. Despite their short weeks together, he liked to think he knew him well enough to know where this conversation was going.

"He wanted me to cut off his life support."

Killua froze.

_What?_

"To stop working to pay his medical bills. His boss already abandoned him since he was of no use anymore. He would be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life anyway."

"_You're of no use to us anymore." Unaware that the unconscious teen could hear every word._

Panic.It was there again. And he couldn't make it stop. Bile invaded his throat when he did, visiting in a tirade of disgusting waves. _Why can't it go away?_ He wanted to run.

"I said no of course." Gon scratched his cheek with a sober smile.

"_But he's right here! Why won't you believe me?!" _

That voice mended into lightning flashes, sapphire pupils dilating into frightened spheres.

"It's funny, but at that moment…" Killua's eyes shifted left to up, right to down, yet his feet stayed rooted to their spot in the muddy grove. Ears buzzing and sight blinded by rain. He needed to leave, right now. And he didn't mean the shrine.

"He was the most human person I've ever met."

He needed to leave Gon's side as soon as possible.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

**Confused? I don't blame you.**

**This story won't be the last. I'm planning to write several AU's and store them in one wonderful series instead of separate ones. Hope this chapter wasn't too terrible…**


	3. Fortieth Chance III

**Story 1: Fortieth Chance Part III**

Gon felt bored.

No, wait. He was never bored. Preoccupied and jumpy maybe, but never bored. Though being the blatantly honest person he was, he didn't doubt that something in his life had drastically changed.

Something, that something always felt missing when he gazed over those unoccupied spots around him at school just before seating himself. One of the chairs had moved a centimeter since lunch. It resonated as he walked down that same dirty path at sunset, reaching the empty two-room apartment just to take that bath he promised his invisible mother every morning. The water was cold but he didn't mind. It refused to leave when he went to bed in a flurry of yawns and stretches, hoping to see Gonta once eyelids shut. But, it invaded his dreams all night and stayed into the morning. Turn the clock back and reset.

_Killua._

Before, it never crossed his mind. Living this way and working towards a cause was all he needed. But ever since he met his best friend, that new feeling had been nothing short of overwhelming this past bundle of days. Eventually through all his confusion and thinking, Gon could come to one simple conclusion about his own life.

It was _lonely_.

Lonely and just _a little_ boring.

He was worried about Killua. It had been weeks since they last saw each other. Weeks since Gon looked back from that treasured graveyard to see eyes filled with fear etched in hate. All of it was directed at him. As if he was the cause of his problems until now, and just decided that day he was done. Killua was done with him. And then left. Gon didn't stop him.

There wasn't anything more he's been regretting the second that fluffy-haired silhouette under the rain disappeared.

Back then it had taken a full five seconds for him to realize what had happened. Five seconds was too long. Even when he took off sprinting full speed down the slippery steps, the white-haired boy was gone in the mist. Just like it's been since they've known each other. Gon continued searching into the night, visiting the grave as much as he could in-between work and school just in case his lost friend returned. He didn't. It was like Killua disappeared off the face of the planet. And for the second time in his life, he felt completely helpless. Helpless and weak for not being able to do anything about it.

_You cheated, Killua._ Gon was currently sprawled out across his bed, the cycle of his life since his friend left it preparing to restart once more. He was if not just slightly very pissed.

_***RING***_

It was from the hospital. Which meant it was important, and sickening.

_Killua is MORE important!_ He had almost slammed the thing into his ear to yell just that, but stopped himself. It was unlikely. But if it was Ging calling, he didn't want him to know about his best friend just yet. Not until they were both at his side. Clumsily packaging all feelings of resentment, he picked up the hard object in the middle of the second ring.

"Hello?" He didn't introduce himself.

"Why hello, Gon." Something was off. He could tell by the first syllable. Sandy-chan never came off so pitiful and bursting with emotion.

So they were both in a rock-bottom mood. "Is something wrong, Sandy?"

"…" The nurse was silent, just as silent as his home, at least for a while. "Thursday November 8th, 2012. A thunder storm passed through the area with wind speeds up to 90km/hour and cut off an adjacent wire. There was no electricity in the building for approximately 15 hours, 49 minutes and 22 and three quarter seconds."

Gon leaned the phone against his shoulder in overcoming sleepiness. It's not the first time the hospital experienced power outages. Luckily despite being the cheapest one he could find, all health care centers were required to have emergency electric supplies. And they happened quite a lot for small reasons, such as rat infestations and even street thieves. This particular big one was new to him. Suddenly her name sounded really ironic to Gon. "Ah, yeah! I heard about the hurricane that hit a while ago. Are you okay?"

"I am fine." She sounded constipated. "During the blackout, although energy was supplied to our main machines and surgery tools, the security cameras could not be spared."

"Did…something happen?"

"Not really." They stayed silent over the line. It didn't seem so but the two had known each other for a while. Apparently all the patients were assigned specific nurses and he happened to be stuck with her. She was another on the number of people he could count on one hand who talked to him without that same fear and suspicion he was so nonchalant about. The crazy thing was that the woman also knew everything, but claimed to never let it affect her work life. Eventually without knowing, she fully came to understand the type of person Gon was. They almost wished she hadn't.

"I am calling to announce the death of Ging Freecss as of Friday November 9th, 2012 at exactly 2:46am Eastern time."

No reaction, other than large caramel eyes turning to the ceiling. Blue rain and thunder.

"When the security cameras were turned back on at half-past two in the morning, the machine providing his body with oxygen and blood was found ripped apart and mutilated. We suspect a suicide while the doctors were not looking."

He poked at a loose strand of yarn dangling the side of his mattress. White bandages and blood.

"…Sir?" The woman stuttered in a very un-business-like voice.

Rusty skateboard and yo-yo.

"How much money?"

Sandy seemed taken aback by just how off his tone was. She'd never heard it before. "Um, sir…?"

Repeat. "How much money do I get back from the deposit?"

It took a full minute for her to process what he meant, before the sounds of rushing heels and dropped clipboards overtook the receiving end in a sudden explosion. Gon waited patiently, his once fidgety body now stark still on the unwashed bed.

"Oh, l-let's see here…" He could imagine her squinting at the papers in mock concentration. "We hadn't used up last time's payment yet so…almost all of it. I-I'll transfer the remaining cash into your savings by tomorrow."

"Good. Thanks Sandy-chan, for everything." Apparently that was the end.

"…Um, Gon?"

He had almost hung up. "Hm?"

"He's a jerk."

Gon gave a weak smile. "I know."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

His bank book was the richest it's been his whole life. Bright green digits increased a day later as promised, expanding every possible horizon that wasn't there before. It was enough to move out of the smelly apartment and into a nicer one, enough to purchase real food and not ramen noodles and self-caught fish he went to get at ridiculous hours of the night. He could buy that fox-cub doll he's always wanted and display it in his room as a keepsake to Gonta. It was all enough to live as a normal teenager, slowly paying off the families his father had hurt through charities and community service. That was what most would have done.

_Bleh. I like this idea more._

Gon huddled against the steel hard seat of the train, poorly dressed self shivering under the suddenly lowering temperatures and conduction of metal on body. He didn't know it'd be freezing, what about the fish?! Are the birds okay? And he couldn't imagine the bears! His breath formed faint clouds in the poorly lit machine. Watching it, he decided to worry later. It would all be worth it after. He just knew.

His back tilted and ignored the stinging cold of the seat. To make things straight, this didn't come out of nowhere. It was what he wanted. The invisible force that suffocated him slowly built up over the weeks, contributing to his increasing edginess and discomfort. It was the cause of many of spilled drinks and sleepless nights. Despite this, the urge remained peacefully teasing, waiting for its moment to pounce on him with no mercy. That one wrongly-placed straw would've tipped everything. Except it wasn't just that. When that phone call had come, it was wrapped right against his neck and choked on in attempted murder. Emotional walls came undone, he wasn't stupid. Not for a second was he going to stand against it.

He needed to see Killua, _badly_.

Over two-thirds his savings; that's how much he planned to spend and would gladly hand over more. The Zoldyck Estate was almost halfway across the world, which was the only thing keeping Gon from running there on foot in the first place. In a mess of strange emptiness coupled with a hidden unknown, it was the only goal he had left. But it was a long shot. He knew that too.

The boy distractedly sketched figures of stick people and trees along the clouded glass, breath and finger as his only apparatus. Long rides on third-class planes and rusty subways meant many hours to himself. During this time, his mind drew blanks. Nothing but blanks and thoughts of awkwardly drawn birds as his hand dragged across the window in slow strides.

Occasionally he would hallucinate a shine of white hair in the sky or road below. On skateboard and smirking up at him in a playful dare. Each time it happened Gon would let that determined smile invade his features, the only sign of sincere emotion he's had since leaving, and think _I won't lose, Killua._

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The Zoldyck Estate was ginormous.

Gon had to take a moment to wonder just why Killua found it weird that size was the first thing that came to his mind. He was pretty sure two or three classrooms around here were equal to all of his whole school back at home. Never mind stairs, just walking to get a drink of water would've been enough exercise to keep all the students fit and healthy. So that's how Killua was so slim.

Deep in awe, Gon didn't notice the two bulky guards hovering closer and closer to him with accusing stares. It wasn't the first time he was caught for loitering. It happened a lot those days when he had to deliver beer to expensive mansions in the dead of the night. Clearly there were many who could not resist the taste of Satotz's rare collection. He didn't think there was anything wrong with scrambling in front and around the icy black gates, eyes shining and jaw hanging open. So he didn't run away as they grabbed him firmly by his upper arm. Almost a sickly blue from frostbite.

He supposed he looked a tad ridiculous, clad in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt out in this snowy weather.

"Do you need anything, boy?" A deep voice reverberated from the one clinging to him; he resembled one of the men in black.

Gon smiled good naturedly. It didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, mister! I'm looking for a friend of mine."

The taller of the two who was watching silently grunted. "I've heard that one before. I'm sorry but visitors are not allowed without special permission."

"How do I get special permission?"

"You must have talked to one of the board of chairmen or have been reserved to come by a student council member."

"Uh…" That sounded like a lot of confusing business stuff. "How do I do that if I can't go in?"

"…"

Gon pouted. "Well?"

"You cannot." The shorter boy felt his legs being lifted off the floor, hanging by that one captive arm. They were starting to grow weary despite his seemingly thin stature and seemed to be preparing to throw the threat out onto the streets. "We do not allow our students to interact with the outside people of lower class."

He didn't know how. But under that unforgiving wind which sent icicles down his spine in cracked waves, old socks long past soaked in silver puddles of frost and patience from nearly two months running thin, something snapped.

"YOU CAN'T DECIDE THAT FOR THEM!" In one capricious move, Gon twisted his wrist with a sudden force that caused the larger man to release it. Shoes landed on pavement. "I just came here TO SEE KILLUA!"

That triggered the end of pleasantries. In nearly half a second, Gon found himself at gunpoint by the one in back and retractable-knife pressed near throat by that same guard who had once held him 'captive'. They were weak, but had weapons.

"…Gon?" A fourth voice he hadn't heard in a long time ripped between the feud like thunder.

The addressed turned in shock along with the two men, temporarily distracted. A relieved smile adorned his face right after.

"Pokkle!"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"I came here to see Killua." It was the one sentence that ingrained itself in his brain so it could be let out in a heartbeat. No trouble, no thinking needed.

Two bodies were seated in a comfy longue, surprisingly one of the smallest rooms in the whole campus. Gon was immensely thankful for the heat and had long kicked off his shoes and socks in favor of drying his feet over the fire in a tirade of sighs. His paling skin was quickly gaining back its healthy glow. Mito-san always said he had a strong immune system.

Adjacent to him, Pokkle sat against a pile of papers and notebooks, pens scattered to the floor and some broken from being stepped on more than one occasion. Having newly transferred to the school with top marks, those around the grounds had a deep respect for the hat-wearing student. But that didn't mean living in luxury or anything. He had an essay due the next day, didn't procrastinate, and had started the day he had gotten it, but was just barely finishing the colossal wall of text. Though, his mind was clearly on something else.

"I remember you saying that name once." Images of that much warmer day from what felt like years ago played themselves. With them brought something too tainted to see. "I don't understand."

"I came here to see Killua."

"So you…" the other trailed off but stayed silent. No one ever understood Gon. That didn't make him a monster like he'd heard those people around them whispering every morning. He was too logical to believe it. His thoughts went somewhere else. "What does he look like?"

The thin tension between them eased as Gon sent an appreciative smile. "A cat."

"A…cat?"

"Mhm." Pokkle busied himself by scrambling for the laptop wedged within his backpack as his acquaintance-sort-of-friend continued talking. Clicks of the keyboard and mouse soon interrupted the quiet room. While he wasn't looking, a strange gleam of happiness invaded the other teen's warm brown eyes. "A cat with messy cloud white hair and ocean blue eyes. He loves chocolate so much he'd eat a castle of it in under 5 minutes. That's the only thing I ever let him beat me in. He's fun to be around with but gets embarrassed easily."

The student in the woolen hat paused halfway through reading, eyes widening at the screen first in surprise. It was quickly overpowered by a small tint of horror.

"And he's also my best _bestest_ friend in the whole world." Gon finished off with a grin. Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

Pokkle peered at him apprehensively, doubtful yet willing to give it a shot. The fireplace had flickered out sometime before which left only lamp light for the two to converse in. They both ignored it in favor for the turned computer. "Gon, is this him?" pointing to a prestige photo. A boy clad in a tuxedo that didn't suit him at all.

With his eyesight, no squinting was needed for a cheerful "yup!" to be thrown across the room. Screen glowing fluorescent, he asked again hoping Gon had seen wrong, but only received a second nod in confirmation. So, he could only shut the lid of his laptop and tell the truth.

"Killua Zoldyck. Age 15. Height 164cm. He was the chosen heir to the entire Zoldyck Estate and several trillions of dollars; top in intelligence and skill for 9 years running, the longest anyone has held.

Status: deceased…died two years ago from an unknown injury to the head."

It was like day and night.

Pokkle felt a strong hand grab his collar behind closed eyelids. Spit was dislodged his way in accompany with words that felt like falling rocks and sharp knives. Angry yet brutally honest brown eyes forced themselves into his sight. Between the adrenaline and shock, he could only notice that they looked darker than he'd ever seen from anyone before.

"Killua would NEVER die!" Bare voice stomped. "It would _never_ happen, you understand?! Killua isn't anything like _him_!" No hate laced his tone even as he hissed the last word in antagonism. It was just there, complete acceptance of one hidden behind exploding denial for the other.

In height of Gon's rough breath preparing to enter another blast, Pokkle managed to hold up a hand in desperation. "Wait!" Long enough for the on come of yells to stop, but his collar remained trapped in the tight grip. Pokkle was somehow unsure the other wouldn't hurt him but, no. He breathed to calm himself.

"Listen, I was _there_ Gon. I remembered just now when I saw his picture. Those two years were the same I visited here with my parents to watch him receive a reward I lost to him for!" Finally feeling the handful around his shirt loosen, he continued. "Killua was on stage when the man who was supposed to hand him the medal suddenly pulled a sharp blade. He was stabbed in front of thousands…and before anyone knew it, was declared dead three days later. I _saw_ his body being lowered into that case at the funeral. He's-" The awkwardness made that essay sound really tempting right now. "He's the one from that story, Gon."

"…_an imperfection…gravely damage their reputation…"_

The lack of light and acute silence didn't do well to quench either of the two's uneasiness.

"Whatever you've been _seeing_ these past few months…" For the second time, he didn't finish his own sentence. He wasn't dumb enough to say it.

Gon stepped back and stared out the window. He knew the other wouldn't lie.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you find him."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The ride back was macabre dry.

Days, that's how long he spent afterwards. Days scouting out that horrid place hidden in the central mountains. Knocking brick hard against gates, the butlers and dogs alike were chased away by his lingering anger and glare as sharp as razors. Blood and bruises remained in his bones from hours exerted to kicking unconscious any creature and every building and corner that stood against him. Then, finally, he was left face to face with a pink-clad woman as the sun set behind the ridged edges of upturned rock.

Her never fading grin as he yelled futile words pissed him off.

They didn't deserve to be Killua's family.

Gon leaned against a nearby pole and waited for his flight to arrive. A dusty flat-screen TV was hung above him with the morning news but no one paid much mind to the gaudy hosts.

His visit had likely done billions of dollars of damage to their immodest home. And he was _not_ paying a single penny back of it. It didn't even begin to cover the value of Killua's life. He should have just burned the whole thing to the ground, starting with that jail cell that was supposed to be his friend's room. Then he could move on to that snobby brother's Yuri collection. With the resolution which overflowed his body in spades, it was weird he didn't. He just left.

Realization really hit then. When all was said and done, tickets reordered and minimal supplies packed, nothing had changed.

He was still gone.

It left an overwhelming weight on his once lively eyes and jumpy posture. The returning train he took seemed duller as the sound of creaking tracks only irritated his ears. The sunlight from changing regions beaming back into his hair felt that much more unbearable. The birds chirping through the sky fell silent and the people he past apathetic. All of a sudden none of these meant anything to him anymore. It was like when he first heard about Ging, but returned at infinity timed strength.

"…and it was discovered last night that a manuscript was found underneath his mattress in tatters and completely illegible. It seemed that the Ging Freecss police were still questioning about had just completed a book and ripped it to shreds before leaving this world."

Gon tiredly lifted his head.

"Not all of it has been uncovered and so far, only one page appeared which could be read." The screen flashed in a bizarre arrange of colors, focusing in on a yellow object. Tea stained its corners yet written in messy cursive against the fine lines of the sheet spelled out two words.

_Fortieth Chance_

A monotone beep signaled above him. It was the last plane he had until he would be forced back into his old life. His old life but with nothing left. He could do it. Return and somehow keep on going with this fake ambition until middle age. Then retire into a cottage by the woods during his remaining days. By then no one would remember the significance behind the name of Freecss. He would die peacefully but with that lingering itch that never went away. For the first time in ages, Gon allowed a real smile to crack past his mouth.

No way in hell was that happening.

_I'll see you soon. Killua._

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was everywhere. Mutilated on the moldy walls in a cruel symphony of thick stench. Dark lines of black and red drew colors on the stark white carpet, forever staining the sight with the art of Mother Nature in the darkest way possible. Bundles of black hair mixed in the pool like the brush used to paint this masterpiece. It twisted around a stiff sack of clothing, unmoving against the flashes of late night traffic from the outside world. Behind it all, soft ugly sobs raked the deafening silence.

"Nee...please don't cry…"

Sapphire eyes stayed hidden behind a wet sleeve. Blood covered knees and shaking hands were all that answered him.

"I wanted to do this." Arms lifted up in the air just as another car rolled by, encompassing them in a second of light. That second revealed unwashed dishes on the table next to them which could be seen right through the limb. It didn't scare him.

"So please. Don't cry anymore, Killua."

It took another minute of standing and waiting in the dark. But he was patient. They had all eternity. The sniffling eventually subsided enough for the two to be engulfed in silence once more. Gon noticed him making a slow grab for the hand of the corpse, only for his own to disappear in a haze of mist. It was only then that he realized that, not once since knowing each other, had Killua allowed him to touch the other.

Then, a stuttering voice. "I-It's all…my fault, you know."

"No." It cut through and left no room for argument. "It's everyone else's but yours."

"That…"

"Even mine." Gon finished with resolve. "Because you never left me in the first place."

Killua fell silent, his longing gaze on the dead body shifting to the spirit in small increments. His friend could only note how the wet stains on his pale cheeks made him look like one of those fallen angels he'd seen in a picture book. Aside that, hesitance and something that was bottled up was slowly spilling out of that face in static patterns.

"…Why?" It sounded stupid, and was too easy to answer.

"Cuz," he grinned with full confidence. "I love Killua!"

It didn't happen in slow motion. Life in itself sped up the moment Gon felt himself being tackled hugged in a childish bout of tears and pure laughter. Body against body for the first time. Blood and broken glass left forgotten, the dull quake of the earth brightened back to something he'd never experienced. And for just that one moment, Gon let himself cry for everything he's been holding in.

Because for both boys, _no one_ had ever gone that far to be with them.

-H-H-H-Fortieth-Chance-End-H-H-H-

**I like cheese, don't you?**

**Nothing's cheesier than having your OTP bound together for eternity. Sorry for horrible ending.**

**More chapters will be coming up so don't think this is the end of this fanfic!**

**Oh, and let me explain. Killua in this story can touch inanimate objects whenever he wants but will faze if he tries to touch anything living (that's why we hear of floating objects in myths and stuff). As for the bleeding, there was a period during his afterlife where he was given a limited amount of time to be 'seen' by a certain number of humans and be able to drink and bleed. He used it up by the end of chapter 2 and left Gon for a few days but was quick to come back. By the beginning of chapter 3 he's already with Gon but couldn't say anything.**


	4. XL Chocolate I

**Story 2: XL Chocolate Part I**

It was the ending of another day.

Just like always. The setting sun brought on its daily show of pinks and oranges. Its rays attacked the surface of the earth in photons, almost assaulting the poor planet. Despite the temporary farewell to the ones below, it was all too cheerful to welcome the night. The colors reached a gigantic output of land, deserted and lonely. It was a beautiful sight. Enough to make everyone's hearts sing. And Killua was sure he wanted nothing more than to ripe those hearts out.

"_OH_ Is that another one, Killua? What a vile creature. Well indeed it's absolutely necessary for you to go, then!" His voice stretched an octave higher in mock femininity. _What the hell!_ That was the last straw. His mother was really starting to get on his nerves with her sucky whine and desire to marry off and cross dress everyone she came across. She acted more like a tortured CEO than an assassin, like as if she owned the place! Which she kind of, sort of did. The thought made him sick.

His sore feet stomped on the drying grass. They were making way to the one place he always went to when he needed a break. It didn't look like it but he was born into a family of assassins, middle child yet already chosen as the heir to this twisted thing. Ironically, his mother was the most hung up on the idea. The idea of training and isolating him just to improve her precious heir's efficiency. Locking him in dark dungeons, chained to a wall for days without food, eating his cereal every morning bathed in poison instead of milk. It went to the point where she forbidden him from leaving the estate for anything other than a mission. Sure, but she actually took his video games away! Just who did that? He would stab the woman every chance that he had.

A strong finger pushed open the six ton door with little effort, his tuft of wet hair and muddy shoes paying no heed to the cleanliness of the house. Then, he shouted, "Gotoh! I want a sundae this time. Hurry up!"

Two figures were by the corridor. It was deducted in an instant that the younger monotone blonde was about to speak while the towering navy-blue eyed man behind him stayed silent. Forgetting a moment why he was here, Killua let loose a small grin. "Master Gotoh is out on personal business with the Cascata Family."

"That sounds like a salsa bar dedicated to Irish dancing."

"Please take this seriously." Well he just cracked a snicker!

"Yeah suuure, Kurapika."

Kurapika was a man in his late teens. Despite this, he still appeared to most as being of a wimpy stature and possessed youthful looks and large doe eyes. Scratch that. Everyone just mistook him for a girl, period. He was a strong fighter though. And wasn't completely uptight like the rest of the cronies around here, so was also the only one within twenty kilometers who accepted Killua's request to just for freak's sake drop the honorifics. Sadly, the man was barely ever around since he worked for an allied family. Seeing him now was a pleasant surprise.

"That lazy guy doesn't leave this place often though." Through his uncaring face, he felt another presence eyeing his exposed neck and pale legs. They must have been waiting for him. He wasn't in the mood. "What's he looking for?"

"I'm afraid he didn't tell me."

"Hm, figures."

"Do you still request that sundae, Killua?" There was a moment when they lapsed into an almost awkward silence. But eventually the blond allowed his features to relax once normal introductions were over with. Unlike everyone else, Kurapika didn't give a crap if Kikyou went crazy on him for being friendly. But to ask someone if they still wanted ice cream?

He felt horrified. "What kind of question is that?"

Surely, less than moments later found Killua pigging out on a chocolate sundae the size of his head, violet shorts and shoes dangling off either side of a window sill overlooking the now nearly pitch black sky. _Heh. The sun may seem chirpy but it sure is getting the heck out of here as fast as it can._ Too bad he couldn't do the same.

He tried once when he was twelve. Despite his skill he was easily caught within the month. He all too soon discovered just how idiotic he was. Idiotic, stupid and a whole bunch of things because it was hopeless to begin with. For killing so cleanly to the last silver edge, or that numb state which was all too easy to step in to, that last bit of a prize he got for all of it. Now, the chance to leave even for only an hour a week, was finally taken away from him at the age of sixteen. He needed ice cream.

And the time to just sit there like a bum, he wasn't going to rush. Sure he was so peeved when he first started that Kurapika was even warning him, a sweets-addicted assassin, of all people not to get brain freeze. But now the scoops of frosty cream and chocolate delight reached his craving mouth in intervals of half a minute. It wasn't half bad out tonight. He hadn't noticed. Chocolate had that wacky effect on him. Yet he knew that the second the clink of metal against glass reached the butlers' ears, meaning he was done, was the same second he would have to go back. Away from this rare moment.

Almost; just a little, he always wished someone would share it with him. Possibly distract him into staying all night without a care in the world.

Killua snorted.

Only a few more seconds passed of the stalling. His body tensed. There was something below him. An intruder who was quiet and discrete but no match for his senses. But something felt off. There was no killing intent; just the pattering of scurried footsteps and overall naivety to just where they had broken into. It honestly felt pathetic.

Deciding that this wouldn't take any time, the boy casually jumped out the window onto the ground ahead, not a single drop of the precious treat in his hands being spilled. He normally let one of the butlers take care of it but boredom did wonders. Blue eyes scanned the yard lazily, noticing that it was only a moment before he landed that all signs of a presence were gone.

_Not bad._ At least was what he thought until a flash of horrid baby pink rolled across the grass. It was…one of his mother's expensive hats. It was also the worst possible thing anyone could wear to anything other than a tea party. A perfect distraction. Yet his feet stayed rooted and ready to pounce.

"Just come out. You're not fooling me." But he had to admit they were a lot smarter than at first glance. Weird, he couldn't sense anyone; even with gyo. Killua shrugged, offhandedly taking another bite. Sweets should never go to waste.

It was at that calculated moment when a shadow leapt from the trees, taking advantage of the distraction to make a grab for the fuchsia object. The silhouette didn't waste a moment in its getaway, sweat glistening and sprain ankles exerting through. It was freedom for a full 4 strides. A full 4 strides before he felt a lunge upon him. Soon enough a blunt pain struck across his neck and sent his body flying down the path. Bare feet clasped on the rocky earth, grip still held firmly on the hat, managing to stay up despite the surprise attack. More blood continued to pool around them from the new cuts.

Spoon still dangling off his mouth, Killua raised an eyebrow in the dark. "Hey, you're pretty good." He took another delicious bite, ignoring the determined glare he felt sent his way. Then smirked. "But I'm better."

A silent pause and the shadow felt his vision growing blurry. The strains of the past few days; no food and deepening wounds. The bruised spot on his neck throbbed at the same moment these strains came crashing down. Even with will power, he stayed up for barely another breath before collapsing to the floor. A pile of black with an ugly pink hat on top.

Sensing he was unconscious, Killua made his way to the figure with his head leaning back. That was close! He couldn't help it. In this smelly dank place, sweets were all he had left. To think some being out there was actually cunning enough to use his love of them and almost got away. _This fiend, this evil person._ The brooding albino bent down to pick up his mother's possession in disgust. For a moment he allowed himself to glance down at the limp body.

Then his eyes widened.

Killua Zoldyck, heir to one of the most dangerous assassin families in the world and said to be the strongest in generations, was almost duped by a dog.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Splinters of wood littered the ground beneath his feet. In his head, it was perfect. Silence was all that filled the large office reserved just for him. He remembered spending hours alone in this room when he was smaller; it helped him concentrate, studying the algorithms of neural networks and integrals at the age of 10. The next day he would be pinned against it, his brother's empty eyes drawing streaks of blood on his baby skin. As he grew, he stopped coming here. Now, he almost never came except for just this one thing.

"I just can't believe what almost happened yesterday!" Did he mention he was just imagining how quiet it was? Killua's eyes never left the wooden carving in his hands, nails protruding in a superhuman way and being used as his tool. If only he could get the nose just right-

"THANK goodness you were there, Killua, or my valued hat engraved with Cleopatra's gems would have been stolen!"

_dink_

There goes the nose.

He threw the remnants into the trash, making sure his every step contained just how annoyed he was feeling right then. "Stop whining! Why are you even here talking to me?"

"_Killua_," she straightened, every poof of her frilly dress pointed at him, "never talk to your mother that way! I can't believe how spoiled you've become. Ooh, what would Zeno say?"

"Nothing much." He spat sarcastically. They never spoke about it since it happened. It just came too suddenly. One time Zeno was sauntering around the mansion with his head held high and cracking jokes about his old age, and then three years ago just disappeared. No one knew he actually left. Not until a week later when Silva decided to check on what kind of silly mission the man had gotten his rusty self into. Just to find a dusty barren room; not a single trace of anyone living prior.

Not for one second did Killua feel abandoned. No, he was jealous. His grandfather could just leave this god forsaken place while he himself was stuck here like a caged bird. It was forbidden to let out such thoughts though. Rats like Illumi or Milluki were always around to tattle on him. So he never talked about it. His mother on the other hand, rarely brought it up since a family being deserted of one of their leaders was apparently really shameful, or something.

"I'm glad you asked though," blue eyes looked away from the crack on the ceiling they were staring at. "Against all expectations, the dirty mutt you've caught had belonged to the Cascata Family."

_That salsa bar place?_

"Mostly, they are just a useless family who is circulating the trade of devices between mafia and criminals. More appealing is that they are also known for their creature of water weapons. Mister Gotoh had contacted the house and revealed that they are willing to pay a large ransom of 5 billion for the return of that filthy creature." Behind her gloved hand, Kikyou let out an arrogant giggle. "What a bunch of fools!"

Killua hummed. "You might not want to do that, actually."

It was an instant transformation. Her gaudily eyes stiffened in impatient anger. "And why is that?"

"That dog; it's a Black Border Collie. Even though it isn't rare or valuable, it's recorded as the smartest species of canine in existence." For once, his studies on boring trivial things were paying off. "But that's based on _official_ articles. One that was trained by the most influential weaponry mafia family in the underworld can be really dangerous. And I'm not just talking based on theory either." Indeed he wasn't. Despite the exchange happening in complete darkness, those few moments were enough to tell. The way that small puppy had purposefully twisted his head just enough to avoid a fatal blow. Not to mention he could hide his aura so precisely. Killua was almost certain that his opponent was at least an A-ranked thief.

"Oh, Kill'." Kikyou breathed out an obnoxious sigh in between sputters of his nickname. "It is nothing but a lowly animal. Now, I want you to head over to that puny Cascata Estate tomorrow and complete the transaction with no flaw! Mother needs that 5 billion to buy herself a new fan."

Killua made a face. "Why can't Illumi do it?"

He was sure he felt a sharp pain on his cheek then. Or maybe it was a knife to the throat. It was all the same to him.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

When they said they had water weapons, they weren't kidding. Skyscrapers of black and blue rose to the afternoon sky in zigzag patterns. They gave way to intricate rivers of circulated water, twisting through glass-made windows before hitting the ground in violent waves, giving an illusion of walking through a waterfall. No doubt they had money and then some to run such a power hungry display. Killua, he just thought they were morons.

He left that morning to board the 3 hour train, only because planes didn't allow animals. Not even mafia-trained ones whom were no doubt potty trained but could also decapitate a head or two if they felt like it. The assassin didn't get it, why no one else in his dumb family believed such a thing. Mike was strong. But he was brawns and no brain. Otherwise was probably hard to come by. Not because no one liked the idea, but more that developing mind over matter was definitely harder; much harder than sticking a wolf on a treadmill and hoping it does something. Really this-_this wimpy_ skinny looking dog beside him, with poorly treated wounds and legs the width of sticks, was getting on his nerve.

A memory he'd soon like to forget rushed by. He had dozed off on the long ride, thick black rope keeping the mutt in place held firmly and with practiced alertness. It was made of the strongest leather that not even the toughest of beasts could cut. It was perfect. But the thing was, the puppy never attempted to even move. Just when Killua was wondering if it died, his rainy eyes opened just very slightly to see chocolate brown ones staring right back at him. He was _watching_ him in his sleep. Nothing but pure curiosity; and it unnerved him. Something wasn't right about this dog.

It brought itself over to his short walk to the showy headquarters. Clumsy steps next to well-trained ones, the black bundle of fur kept up with him at an even pace, distracted by normal things like flashy stores or waving kids though only for the slightest fraction of a second. He was expecting resistance, blood, a struggle. There was none. It was almost like the collar attaching the two wasn't even needed. Except once by accident when the puppy had slipped against a baby's carriage. The tug of the rope on his palms as the animal stepped oh so abruptly to catch the rolling cart in its teeth; that was the first time Killua had let himself be pulled. Let himself be pulled without being forced to. It felt weird.

It hit him then. He could run, right now. Having something to hold on to, even as pitiful as a tattered leash and dog on the other side, was more than he'd ever had. The option was there. But he reasoned himself out. It was all that limping dog's fault.

_You're a hostage, damn it. Act like one._

Making way to the top floor, the teen was welcomed with some cold stares, some scared stiff, others even surprised. His silver hair was a dead giveaway. He knew he was famous but geez. It was spoiling the time he had away from his dreaded house.

They continued until he finally reached large double doors, guarded by a man a head taller and twice the width of shoulder blade. No one spoke, the dog didn't bark, and within a minute Killua found himself seated in a much too clean pristine sofa with cheesy jazz music in the background. Two security cameras, both of which the albino cut off by throwing a toothpick at out of boredom. And here he thought this place would be a bit more interesting.

5 minutes. 10 minutes. _30 minutes._

Sometime during this wait, Killua let out a bored groan.

A black puff of fur twitched, he assumed it was an ear, and the resting dog stood to look at him confused. Could the moron not tell he was bored? Okay, maybe he really did give this dumb thing too much credit yesterday-

His thoughts cut off when he felt a shift in the leash. A chime of the clock above them, sharp animal claws which came from nowhere, and the black rope connecting them was utterly severed in two.

Tick tock…

Killua blinked.

Then realization set in.

"Y-You…!" He never stuttered.

But the boy got no reply, just a wagging tail and mouth that pulled against the sleeve of his shirt, almost urging him to follow. Out of impulse, he didn't. Even as the energetic puppy gave up to shift across the room in front of a plastic machine, Killua stayed rooted to his spot. Wait, when did he even stand up? Was this like one of those video games where the boss messes with him using alien dogs? Was he being turned into one right now?! Why didn't the obviously powerful animalization of Chuck Norris not escape?

Killua almost slapped his childishness away. _Crap, I did it again._

His thoughts cut off; a sudden heat was pressed against palms. Unprepared, his head shot down like a bullet, noting with almost admiration that a familiar scent had been pressing the room for a while now. It relaxed his upturning discomfort, making room for a new sense of awareness. It was embarrassing when he looked back; realizing he'd lost it for a full 2 minutes. But something else was keeping his attention.

Balanced precariously on the dog's muzzle, was a large mug of hot chocolate.

Killua stared, mind lapsing between bemusement and confusion. But, it was chocolate. It was never a choice. It was a reflex. He took the cup and sipped. Somehow the warm taste was inviting, better than any of those expensive sugar-coated treats any of the maids would prepare for him. He could already imagine the cold winter nights when he would sneak some away to drink alone in his room after long hours of whipping and frost bitten toes. He hated to admit it, but the pup could make a mean glass of hot chocolate.

Funny. The boy remembered how during their fight on that dark night, he _had _been eating a chocolate sundae. Past the blackness even he couldn't see through and past the adrenaline of lives on the line, the dog had noticed such a miniscule detail.

It was then a smirk escaped his lips. "I just realized. You probably poisoned this, and I fell for it."

A confused bark, honest brown eyes, wagging black hair which stuck every which way, and Killua knew it wasn't true.

"Thanks…" awkward smile. "I guess."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The room was eerie. It placed itself against the underside of a cliff which overlooked crashing whips of the ocean. Its occupants were forced to sleep on 4-inch glass, a layer of translucent steel coverings surrounding each cell to spell out varying words of repentance. It looked as though some switch or button in the mansion could retract the steel and leave everyone sitting on the burning glass, blazing sun as torture on hotter days. The layout of the prison was nearly as unnecessary complicated as the front door. At least the inmates had quite a view, eh?

"Hey. Are you listening, boy?" A middle-aged woman snapped beside him. She was an emitter; an impatient edgy old witch with a giant mole at that.

"Sorry old lady, I kind of missed that." Killua shrugged, purposely detaching his attention away. "What was it again…you want us to have 12 o'clock naps and line up to go to the bathroom? I guess there's some system where we have to raise our hands first and wait our turn too."

She twitched, fixating a glare to the young boy. "But you think I can go back and get my games, or at least some Febreze? This place is as smelly as Milluki's room after he's had 12 burritos!"

The tip of her candle flared against the skin of his arm, expecting the teen to flinch. _Lame._

"Quit acting so high and mighty, Mister Zoldyck!" Her saggy hair fell at how his pale skin remained unscathed. These assassins, they were something else. "Don't forget that you are now in the custody of the Cascata Family. Unless you want to see the light of day again, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and wait for the ransom money to come in."

Damn, these people were so boring.

Firstly, he could see the light of day just fine with this tacky room they called a jail cell. Secondly, his parents would sooner drop dead than pay to free him. They thought it was much more fun to sit on their butts and let him kill everyone.

_Don't feel like it._ He'd been like that recently. Either at gunpoint like moments ago in the office of the boss, a supposed exchange of money for dog a complete and utter trap, or thrown in prison while being threatened by a freaking emission candle. He'd just been killing less and less lately, ignoring his lessons. Those so called lessons always presented him two_ requirements_ to do so outside the job. They were if something got in the way, check, or if someone really irked him into pure rage. He wondered what that felt like. He'd _never_ been truly angry before. So, killing just felt stupid.

On contrary, spending a few nights here was heaven in comparison to the fast his mother had planned for him back home. So, he gladly acted the helpless one and let himself be taken away even as that stupid black pet tried to follow him.

Killua felt his body being shoved behind the dark door in the back. Someone out there decided to cut him some slack for the candle mole-woman left without another word or glance. He cracked his shoulders, sat cross-legged and leaned against the wall blankly. Within moments he was able to deduce that this was the highest guarded cell by the thickened wires and blue spark of electrocuting bars. The steel cuffs weighing down on his wrists were big and ugly.

"E-Excuse me." His stare on the ceiling shifted to the direction of the voice, eyes still cold. It was a girl a few years younger, covered in blisters and dirt, a once feminine dress shredded to a measly cloth. She flinched but quickly picked up herself to speak once more. "Are y-you okay?"

Ah, she was probably used to seeing scowling old men and keen prostitutes coming in here. He just looked like a bored kid in the middle of math class. Killua sent her a nod in acknowledgement.

Something about her felt off. Now that he looked again, the one thing that stuck out was a gold necklace she wore, a much too big shiny ruby sphere hanging off its edge on her collar bone.

"Th-That's good." _Too stutter-y._ "Sorry but f-father said that Gon would be coming back today…I know it's a-asking a lot but have you seen a bl-black dog running around when you came in?"

_Black dog…_ "Why?"

Flinch again. Somehow she was on the verge of tears. "It's just that I really, _really_ have to know! He's been gone for 3 months n-now! No one else will talk to me around here. A-Anyone, it's my fault he might be dead!"

Same question. "Why?"

Despite just meeting, Killua could tell she was dying to tell anyone what she's been holding in for however long. He was trained to be immune to that type of emotion. So this was the first time he's witnessed it. It was better than staring at the paint on the wall.

"H-He's the most loyal puppy in the whole world! He may seem friendly to everyone but there're only a select few he loves. And when he loves someone, he truly loves them with all his heart!" He could feel himself giving her a look. _Are we still talking about the same thing?_

"Back then…yes, back when everything was alright. I remember saying once I loved ruby and he gave me this necklace." She pointed to the jewel, almost as if he didn't see it already. "Then, a few months ago, father let down the steel wall and I started complaining about the burning sun without r-realizing. He-He's…probably out getting something really expensive for me again, to keep the heat away."

Recalling the long train ride, Killua shrugged. He didn't know what to think but: "He's an idiot dog."

Against all odds, she turned on him. "Gon is not an idiot! He has a heart of gold and continues caring for everyone he's sworn to protect! He's the only one in this twisted family who doesn't treat me any differently from before. I can't ignore that! And…And…!"

"Wow," Killua suddenly interrupted. He was honestly disinterested. "Your story's just like Cinderella, isn't it?" He was trained to be cold-blooded but that didn't mean he didn't read a fairytale once in a while. And that was strangely the first thing that came to mind.

The girl looked away from the spot on the wall behind him she'd been distracting herself with. "I never said anything about that…"

"It's so obvious it's lame." The assassin remembered how the Cascata Boss had rambled on about a 'cheating no good woman' on the phone in an office a few rooms over from the one he and the black collie were waiting in. 45 minutes, was how long he continued arguing; about finances, for her to stop calling him, even threats. Booming voice just audible to normal ears but completely exposed to trained ones such as his. Even when he was distracted by hot chocolate.

It took Killua a wholly 3 seconds from when the girl started calling that man his father to figuring everything out. "He's your father with an illegitimate woman. You didn't find out until you were old enough to know you were thrown in here only because you were a shame to the mafia. That life lived in luxury was completely taken away. Now you're miserable because you're a dumb rich girl waiting for someone to rescue you but that dog is the only one who ever tried."

No denial. He was reaffirmed with a shy nod. It was the perfect messed up family. Just like his but not quite as twisted. He remembered as a kid reading every book he ever had somewhere halfway through before his brother ripped them from his eyes just as the main character hit rock bottom. _"It's more realistic that way."_ They would say.

Because of that, he could never remember what happened in the ending of any of them. Something stupid he was sure. But a prince charming would always come save them from the darkening abyss. They would then run away together in happiness, and eventually find love with each other.

"That never happens."

The timid girl didn't respond, opting to play with the helm of her burnt dress.

"But you know what?" At this she did look up.

"At least you have that idiot dog."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was in the early hours of the morning when Killua awoke to the sound of footsteps. Being raised an incredibly light sleeper, he could tell that the movement was coming from a floor or two above him, making their way down jagged glass steps littered from years of neglect. Though he decided to keep his blue eyes shut lazily, the boy let his ear twitch ever so slightly.

_High heels, 3 and half inches; around 130lbs; aura…_

He couldn't feel it.

Whatever it was, it wasn't being aimed at him uncontrollably. It was either a man in girly shoes or a highly cautious woman. Either way, he kept his Nen naturally flowing as it was just a while before, staying stock still. He remained this stock still even as the sound stepped past his cell, giving a second's worth glance, before continuing to the one across and three spaces away from his.

"Hey, Mito-chan…" It was indeed a woman's voice. "Wake up, darling."

The younger one stirred, tired eyes blinking back tears and yawn escaping in between hiccups. "M-Mom...?"

"Yes, yes! It's me, Mito-chan." Scurrying steps upon hard glass and the girl was up against the bars within a second, eyes widened in pure amazement. This was interesting, but…

_Something about that woman is definitely wrong. _From his spot on the cold floor, he nonchalantly slid one eyelid open, activating a low level Gyo to keep from being sensed. Nothing; not even an ant stuck to the wall. It was like she was an empty illusion. Someone highly trained.

"W-What are you doing here, mom? I thought that horrible man told you to leave and never come back!" Old tears resurfaced in relieved sobs, attacking the ground in a tirade of rainfall. Her grip on the black pole tightened when she felt a delicately pedicured finger tracing the outline of her forehead, seemingly in a loving way. The older woman was assessing how her daughter had grown up.

It slid lower before resting on her chin, and only Killua could notice how her gaze shifted to the gleaming necklace for one short moment. "I came to get you, Mito-chan…don't worry anymore! Mommy's going to free you and we can live together again without that rotten man in our lives."

The brunette seemed conflicted and in deep thought for a full minute, staring at the passionate lady with a hope long gone being reopened. Then, a bursting smile graced her features. "W-Without daddy? No one e-else?"

"Yes, my baby. We're special. Just the two of us."

"Just the two of us!"

It was less than half a second, but enough for the assassin to get it. The woman let her guard slip when she eyed the gem once more, aura spilling off body in unfathomable waves. Killua smirked.

"You're planning something really crazy there, hag."

The girl recoiled in shock. At the same time high heels clanked in what he presumed was her sophisticated way of cursing before long slender fingers danced in a swift movement. He could've blinked and missed it, but the woman now had a strange red gun aimed for Mito, flames decorating its sides in an alluring pattern._ First water weapons and now fire weapons?_

"I really shouldn't have underestimated a Zoldyck after all, no matter how young he was." The once gentle voice transformed into something husky and felt like those prickles on the Christmas trees Illumi made him cut down just to burn. Probably a transmuter like him. "Now you keep quiet about this incident, or the girl dies."

"Go ahead."

She seemed taken aback by his cold stare. "What?"

"I'm more concerned on what you're planning to do after, old hag." He adjusted the position of his wrists slightly, letting nerves contract. The thick steel cuffs were broken in an instant. Damn, he guessed his stay here was going to have to be cut short. "You can make a run with that necklace and murder everyone all you like. But destroying this place would be a problem for me since I'm in it."

A step was taken in surprise, yet gun remained menacingly in place. "How did-"

"And you," Killua turned to Mito next, legs given out in shock and tears brimming once more. A light returned to his eyes in an almost sickeningly innocent gleam. "So when it comes down to it, that dog would've been left behind too, huh?" He hummed, arms now crossed behind head in a thoughtful gesture. How ironic, that those two separate _requirements_ would appear before him so soon.

Sneer returning, he assessed the two in amusement.

"Too bad. I have to kill the both of you now."

They never saw it coming.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

**Yes, I did turn Gon into a dog. I also made Killua's IQ super high, but it was already really OP when he was twelve and he's about sixteen in this story. I tried my best to write a version of Killua who's never met Gon before.**

**I also apologize that this chapter took so long. Exam week plus I had to start my planning for it from scratch as opposed to before where I had some notes to look at. Hope everyone likes it at least!**


	5. XL Chocolate II

**Story 2: XL Chocolate Part II**

It turned out Killua was half wrong. Only shortly after he left, news of the Cascata Family mansion going down in flames had reverberated throughout the neighborhood. The woman had already set a fire to go off before she came to meet her dear daughter. The boss had died a gruesome death trapped in his room. All water weapons stolen or damaged. And no doubt by morning when everything's settled and they find one body missing in their jail cell; all the blame would be pushed onto him.

_Well damn._ These kinds of rumors spread fast. The Cascata Family was well respected outside the mafia community too. No doubt they had placed police all around town to body check everyone who passed. And he had not an ounce to prove his rare innocence, which also meant he couldn't take the bus to risk being spotted.

That didn't worry Killua in the bit. What was really troublesome was that the Zoldyck's hated fires more than anything. Arsonists were nothing short of lazy amateurs with no sense of a clean and clear kill. Any family member caught dead using it would be severely punished.

Sure enough, his half a day walk back was met with a sound wave punch to the gut. His sleep-deprived body was sent across the yard, slamming through several trees in a blink of an eye. Only one of their Nen-enhanced statues stopped him with an ugly bang. It hurt. Killua looked at his mother annoyed from his spot on the ground, about to send out a sharp "what, old hag" in response until he realized something.

It was his father who hit him.

"I can't stand this anymore, Kill!" His old man stayed silent, the rowdy woman scurrying up to Killua's slightly shocked figure in disgust. The teen got up on his own to stare at her. This…wasn't the first time he failed a mission; not even close.

As a little kid, a preteen even, everything was too easy. All he had to do was follow the orders of the people with money. As he got older, what they wanted just seemed dumber and even more boring than the last. His mother complained. But each time he came back ranging from in tatters or a suit, his father never seemed truly mad at him. He'd learnt to tune out Kikyou's ramblings and didn't know a thing with dealing against Silva. It wasn't like he could be excused forever.

So, standing up to brush past the puffy woman, Killua allowed his feet to carry him until he was face to face with those familiar eyes and hair. He planned to fake a nonchalant tone, but it came out as more of a stutter. "Y-Yeah, father?"

"Killua," even Kikyou was smart enough to fall silent, "remember what I told you when you came back 4 years ago?"

_That time, when I ran away…_

"You're the strongest Zoldyck heir in centuries and I was proud of that." _Was._ "So I had let you do what you wanted for the time. Your potential was too supreme to be locked up like Zeno's and mine were."

When he was twelve, he remembered Silva letting off a proud smile when he said those exact words. All traces of it were gone now. It scared him a little. "Lately you've been falling behind, in everything: your studies, your reputation. Illumi even told me your progression in Nen has slowed to a pitiful pace. Do not misunderstand; the potential is still there but you're just not motivated to use it. Are we not punishing you enough, Kill?"

This mission was the last straw; it was fact that Killua Zoldyck couldn't even complete a simple exchange for money. And when asked _why_…he just didn't know. His father sighed after a moment of silence, peering at his wife for a moment and nodding. It was some kind of sign to continue.

"Oh Kill. Even father agrees all you have left worth mentioning for our dear family is your looks, after all." Killua felt like clawing the woman out. He wanted to scare people, not make them ogle! "However, that isn't necessarily a bad thing either. Many young girls of heritage almost as famed as ours have so far refused to Illumi and Milluki due to their demeanors. Yet, you are coming of age very soon and possess that charm in which they lack."

Despite the mood, Killua's head shot up in disbelief. _Wait._ _Are they serious?_

"Therefore father and I have decided to give you another chance." He didn't like where this was going. "We've had our eye on the Gioiello family for quite a while now. They're a professional con artist family who's had their fair share of murders and are by far one of the richest in the world. Their daughter, Ametista is a darling but not one to marry easily. And-"

"I'm sixteen!" He choked out pathetically.

"Yes." Kikyou narrowed her eyes. "I've considered that already. It's just an engagement, Kill. Of course when both of you are of age the marriage will take place right away! Oh, I bet when she lays eyes on my dear Killua she'll jump at the chance!" He was so in shock; even his mother's girly shriek a second later didn't move him.

All he could do was turn to his father, hoping that the man would once more bail him out, yet all Silva did was close his eyes in acceptance.

It was then Killua knew he was out of luck.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

_Why does this even bother me so much?_

Killua was no romanticist. He didn't even like anyone. He shouldn't have cared. They could've just gotten the proposal over with and he'd never see that female again. His parents knew there was no way he was giving up his virginity now; Milluki could be in charge of something sick like that. _So, why?_

Maybe the thought of being tied down by some noisy girl he didn't even know was too akin to sending him off to low hell. He felt like decapitating everything in sight. Or blowing up the guy who invented dietary chocolate. It irritated Killua that he had to be engaged to her by the end of the month and his father actually agreed to that. It irritated him even more that he didn't even like girls to begin with. But mostly, it irritated him that it did irritate him so much.

Killua's irritated finger tapped the window sill in budding irritation.

"You'll get fired." So, he was in absolutely no mood to deal with his tutor right now.

"And what's with the sour tone today, Killua?"

The moment he saw the navy-haired man next to Kurapika that other night, Killua knew that the other's sick attraction to him had only grown through the past few days. When he was thirteen, it had started out annoying. It was like those times the girls at the ice cream shop would send him looks, grabbling over whether to greet the bored preteen. But it didn't interfere with his daily routine much. Back then, Aoi-sensei would just once in a while skip lessons and take him out to eat. He only dealt with it for the free food.

As his limbs grew and it was clear he was no longer a little kid, that small crush had turned into something that made the albino want to throw up. Of course, these outings became more frequent and less innocent. Killua had one time found himself in a strip club with the man. He was offered crack by a chunky woman in overalls and had beer spilt all over him in more than one occasion. The putrid smell truly made him throw up a couple times. Since then he'd been nothing but either dreading or nonchalant to their little 'dates'.

The younger boy thought about tattling once, but chucked the idea as soon as it came. His family didn't care as long as his studies were still being done. Then he tried killing him, but he knew his tutor was world renowned and Illumi wouldn't be happy. In the end, Killua decided he just had to deal with it.

This time, his mother was told they were heading to the library. Of course, library meant slave auction. Killua wouldn't be surprised if Aoi was planning to buy a woman or two to satisfy his own sick cravings. They were currently seated in one of the back rows, Killua staring disinterested at the rotting ceiling. There was dirt sticking to the worn out seats and shady folks all around. But everyone here was a killer, prostitute, or rapist, so didn't bat an eye at his unique hair. He supposed he'd been brought to worse places.

Aoi waited with arms crossed. His listing hadn't been called yet, as he was waiting to claim the perfect slave for his ten year old daughter. He allowed his dark eyes to wander around the hall innocently. But Killua knew it was all a charade, especially as he felt the other's lustful eye land on his pale leg against the red of the chair. That was all it ever amounted to. The sick looks and those annoying revelations Killua got that he should just stop wearing shorts all the time.

For the second time that week, he was wrong. A rip in his composed self, the sensation of a large hand caressing his lower thigh snapped him out of counting the ceiling tiles. Something snapped. A dark tint painted Killua's pupils; blood was drawn from where his extended nails violently grabbed the psycho's wrist and threw it away. Then, he hissed. "What are you doing, old man?"

"Hmm, this is new…" _What the heck does that mean?_

"Showing emotion, Killua-kun?" Killua froze. It was a threat, to tell his parents. No. He had probably done it under some indirect order from them to test what was wrong with him. The assassin had to admit, since he allowed himself to admit he was angry the other night in the cell, it just felt good to let it out once in a while. It was new and different. And he didn't feel so plain while doing it. Anger was an emotion. _I should stop._

Thankfully, Aoi retreated back to his side and didn't say another word. Not even as the skimpiest of girls went across the stage in flowing patterns. Not even as the bidding died down and the clock struck midnight. What were they even doing here? Killua wasn't complaining for the silence. Yet, their short conversation still bothered him.

"And now, the final item for tonight! You may have heard…" The woman on stage with red hair that bounced up in curls chided in growing anticipation. It seemed they saved the best for last; either some rare beast or a member of a skilled clan. Killua, he just felt bored.

"…about the murder of the entire Cascata Family a few days ago." At this, he perked up and blinked.

"The Cascata Family has some of the most dangerous and effective training secrets in the world. However, after the accident, almost every trace of being in the headquarters was mysteriously and quite cleverly burnt to an ash. It's quite a shame that their way has so easily become extinct from one little fire." She paused dramatically. Some members of the crowd booed, yelling at her to get on with it. Killua was kind of glad she didn't bother mentioning _who_ was accused of it all. "However sightings of their top-trained guard had been circulating around those who were closer and knew the family well. Amazingly, a two-star hunter had captured him and this creature is now being sold tonight!"

Cheers erupted from the dirty men and gaudy women all around. Aoi remained silent, ignorant to the way Killua's ocean eyes just very slightly widened in curiosity. They only quieted to observe the lush velvet curtain being lifted from the floor in an achingly slow pace, spotlights shining and people gasping. Only a few seconds later could they make out a familiar figure standing alone on the pedestal, thick chains tied around muzzle and black hair sagging pitifully. Blood stuck to its fur and dripped into sad brown eyes, some decorating the floor in its wake.

Killua gapped. "Gon…?"

"Now let's start this bid at one hundred million!"

"Two hundred million!" Three fingers were raised.

Luckily, no one heard his quaking voice under the sudden shouts of bids being thrown all around. It couldn't be helped. As silent feet carried him away from the dark mansion with an assassin's stride nights before, he didn't know the small bombs were already planted. So thoughts of what would happen to Gon were thrown out of his head as soon as they came. It was only after the place was already in ashes that Killua had presumed the bundle of fur dead. People died all the time; he wasn't sad.

But some part of him was glad the idiot was still alive.

"One billion."

A sudden realization broke his stare at the Border Collie. Killua turned to Aoi in slight surprise. _He's trying to get him?_

Thumb. "Oh, and contestant 108 increases it to 1.2 billion!" It was a young woman with a slanted mouth and blonde hair held in a bun. She seemed to be the spoiled type who used whips and money to get work done.

Aoi scoffed, holding up his thumb as well. "Now we have 217 bidding for 1.4 billion."

This continued between the two for a while. After hitting the one billion mark, it was clear everyone else opted out. After all, it was just a dog. The only reason anyone wanted one was that they were known as some of the most useful animals to have under your belt. Dogs listened to their master with no question. They had good memory. They were easily manipulated. Mostly, they were stupidly loyal.

Killua had to completely agree.

"And now 217 brings it up to an amazing 3.4 billion!"

The white-haired boy relaxed against his chair once more. From the achingly slow way the digits increased, he had to guess the woman had a budget of around 5 billion while his pervert tutor maxed out at 8 billion. It was clear who was going to win. But it didn't matter. With their sneering lips and uptight suits, both of these two looked like lunatics. Gon would be in a messed up place either way.

_But it's not like I can do anything about it._

"5.5 billion! What a turnout for this Black Border Collie! Anyone else?" Nothing. Killua was never wrong with his deductions. Yet the bouncy announcer on stage seemed adamant on leeching more money from the audience as she stepped closer to Gon, a finger held up like she was about to reveal some special secret. They did that sometimes, how typical. Yet what happened next defied everything Killua was expecting.

Shiny blood flew across the stage, a Nen-enhanced steel fan smacking Gon's front arm with a painful sound. The adults in their seats watched amazed as the dog slid down their sight from the impact. Un-expectantly, his claws remained firmly dug into the concrete, creating sharp ridges against the surface. He was in pain, but against all odds remained standing.

Killua watched in mild horror as those around him stood up to clap and cheer in a disgusting tirade of excited whispers. To anyone else, it was something they never thought possible. But to him, his sharp mind was clearly on something else. _W-What? Gon could've dodged that. Why did he just let some woman hit him?!_

It pissed him off.

The announcer smiled slyly, returning the fan to her back pocket as if nothing happened. "As you can see, this dog was trained to use Nen. He is the enhancement type; how interesti-"

"6 billion!" A man in the front interrupted. Killua's head shot towards him, something unrecognizable glowing in his eyes.

The woman subtly sneered, yet kept her bubbly composure. "Sir, I appreciate the bid but allow me to announce the results next time. So, 6 billion! How unexpected!" Another hand rose immediately, cutting her off once more.

"Oh, now we have 8 billion!" Aoi seethed under his breath, glaring up against his held up fingers and at the woman at the front who didn't seem to notice. He knew he lost.

"But of course 372 bids 8.5 billion!"

"And 75 in the corner bids 9 bil-"

"**18 BILLION!**"

Silence.

All eyes were now facing the kid who had a frail palm held out, his pale skin glowing against the dim lighting. Nearly everyone recognized him in an instant; some were gapping. He sent out a dark look at anyone who was staring, willing them to break eye contact nearly a second later. Rather, they began shuffling to leave as the bell rang to signal the end of the auction quite suddenly. The woman was so happy she didn't even bother asking for a higher price, that hag.

Killua waited patiently. It was only after a large portion of the crowd had left that he allowed himself to stand up, ignoring his tutor in favor of walking to the front to retrieve the prize. The albino threw a cheque he wrote while in his seat at the pestering lady in annoyance. No one else dared to pretend he existed, just the way he liked it.

_Tch, really. That was half my savings right there._ Sparing a moment to mope about it, he grabbed the chain attached to Gon and stepped down trying not to spare a look at those chocolate brown eyes. Killua must've imagined it, but they somehow lighted up to an astonishing honey at seeing him. The thought embarrassed him.

"What are you doing?" _Oh crap. I forgot about this guy._

Killua glanced blankly at Aoi. "I can buy something if I want to."

"But still," he raised an eyebrow, "what are _you _going to do with that?"

"Go home, sensei." It was like this every time. No matter who accompanied him outside Zoldyck property, they watched him like a hawk and questioned everything he did. This sick guy was no exception.

"I need that dog." The man seemed aggravated for another moment, but stopped when a thought crossed him. Killua blinked in confusion. But before he knew what was going on, Aoi's broad arms were wrapped around his thin body, one charred finger lifting up the younger boy's chin in a flirtatious manner. A trail of red dripped down from his pale neck where the taller man purposely laid the nail of his thumb. The scent of wine suddenly reached his senses, making Killua almost gag. _Fuck, I let my guard down. _"Ah, I see. You bought him for me because I ran out of money, did you?"

Feeling his face being tilted up further into that putrid breath, Killua made a move to slice the man's arm off. But someone else beat him to it. Anyone would've missed by blinking. Those left in the room witnessing the scene probably did. Yet Killua caught it clear as day just as Aoi's sleeve came flying off in a rain of blood, turning back just in time to witness the terrified man. His left arm was sliced clean off from the elbow down. Killua took this opportunity to land an elbow to the other's stomach, jumping away as Aoi lost consciousness and fell to the floor. He wasn't allowed to kill him.

It seemed a scene like this was normal for the employees. A janitor passed by not a moment later and shooed the two, muttering something about wanting to get home early. Killua didn't complain and walked out with a straight face. Sometime during the one-sided fight, he had dropped Gon's leash to the floor, yet the suddenly chirpy animal followed him without hesitation.

The streets were quiet for one in the morning. There wasn't even any wind. With his silent footstep training, the only sounds audible were the occasional car and the scuffling of Gon's limping toes against gravel. Killua didn't mind the car honks and blinding lights. It was that limp somehow driving him crazy. It sounded days old, not caused by the lady with the fan like Killua originally thought. Just how much had Gon let himself get hit since he last saw him? _A lot, counting by the labored breathing and weakening stride._ Was this the first time?_ I wouldn't know._ What really happened? Obviously, Gon had managed to escape that fire woman's traps, but was that it?

Killua snuck a peak at him from his peripheral vision. He did have _a lot_ of questions. They were nearly threatening to spill out. But no matter how many times he separated his lips, or even took an icy breath, words wouldn't leave his drying throat. He was at that point like when someone was blowing up a balloon, thinking it'd pop any moment as more and more air is added. Yet nothing happened but that frustration when it didn't.

Instead, he sighed and stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk, almost causing the other to crash into the back of his leg. They were near a crooked alleyway where old couples hung their washed shirts to dry under the cool breeze. A blinking street light hung over them in a dying breath.

Gon did piss him off. But in a different way. He couldn't just kill him. No. The truth was he didn't even _want_ him to die. The revelation nearly sent his normally composed brain into haywire. And within that deep turmoil of burning things that could've been said, one phrase managed to slip out:

"You need a doctor."

Then almost took it back. He was playing the good guy. It was weird.

"…I know a place that's still open where someone can help you." Killua trailed after an awkward pause. His face remained stoic and bored, despite the new feeling. His body was tense yet not too tight to give away fear to the dog, even as he began his trek away from that strange spot. He halted in his steady walk when he noticed a missing presence. Killua turned, only to find said dog staring at him like an idiot.

Subconsciously, the albino felt his shoulders relax.

"What are you waiting for? Come on!"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"I should warn you, Killua-kun, that I am no certified doctor or veterinarian under this field. I may only provide the basic first-aid before potentially harming him."

"It's fine. This is way more than my folks would ever do." Killua sipped on a chocolate shake as he waited for Satotz to finish wrapping Gon's bloodied body in bandages and antiseptic. The usually obedient and boundlessly insightful dog was reduced to a pathetic pile of fur. His sharp teeth gnawed at the raw cloth in confusion as his head and body remained twitching in the presence of the chemical, as like any other dog would do. It made Killua raise an eyebrow. Was this the first time Gon had ever been treated?

It was pretty pathetic. And no substitute for a hospital. But the last place he wanted to bring Gon at this moment was his house. Kikyou would throw the thing into the woods in a heartbeat. Something about lions pushing their cubs off a cliff to see them climb back up. He had no doubt Gon could survive around Mike. It was at this state that raised alarms.

"You look unusually happy tonight, Killua-kun."

"Huh?" The boy blinked. An unseen tint of mirth was glazing over his eyes the past two minutes. "And I thought I was in a horrible one."

"Do not misunderstand." Satotz's blank eyes returned back to his work. However, one of them strayed away from the folding and cutting of bandages, taking time to observe the liveliness and obvious fondness it held for his number one customer. "This dog has a good look in its eyes."

At this, Killua paused. "I…guess so." His voice cracked a little in the end. Not because he doubted. A sudden half-tilted smile had just decided to mare his face that same moment. It was gone as he went back to sipping his shake. Isn't it strange, that he still thought that hot chocolate Gon made for him was better?

With a last shuffle and pat, Satotz allowed himself to step back to inspect the now healing wounds. "This should be the limit of what I can do." And the second he untied the leash holding Gon to the make-shift bed, the puppy made a mad dash to seat himself beside Killua. He sent a grateful bark in the taller man's direction before turning to his self-proclaimed owner in expectance. The look made Killua sigh. Satotz chuckled a little at the scene.

"We're at _Café Chocorobo_. I come here a lot." And at one-thirty, they were two of the only customers. Thank goodness not many people were around to make fun of him for talking to an animal.

Gon nudged Killua's arm with his nose. He then pointed it in the direction of another booth, where a man and his child were talking excitedly under the dim lamp light. They were oblivious to the young teen and dog silently observing them. Their faces split in laughter every few seconds, arms endlessly hugging without a care in the world. Let alone bed time.

"Oh." Killua eyed Satotz who decided to give them some privacy. What? It's not like he was going to say anything sappy. But he was one of the only people who knew. Through the pocket of his pants, he could feel his cell phone vibrating but chose to ignore it. "You'd think it's a dumb coincidence. Even I don't know how or why. This place is just like that."

By now, Gon was lying on the seat next to him, his breath tickling Killua's wrist. He almost, _almost_ blushed at the sight. Were all dogs this cute? Killua didn't even care if they were alone or if anyone was watching. He slowly raised his hand and placed it on the Gon's head. The thick fur brought a foreign comfort to the edges of his fingertips as he played with it. Then, he let himself forget. For just that one moment, everything that Silva had said.

"It's where people meet after not seeing each other for a long time."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

_I'm disappointed in you. _

That text, it was just one line. Killua realized as soon as he read it that Aoi must've told. Anyone happening to look over his shoulder could read the dark bold letters against the white of the screen on his phone. It sent chills down his stiff spine; so much could be implied from it. Yet the biggest shined before him like an ugly bar sign. Illumi was telling him to get rid of Gon. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He hated it. But no one would ever know.

Killua was on route back to the Zoldyck mansion, hand in pocket and the other trotting beside him. The leash around the puppy's neck had long been removed since they both thought it looked stupid. The sight of Gon without one had just moments before greatly amused the assassin. There _was_ someone out there who'd follow him without being chained. Solid proof that the things his family taught him were just stupid half the time. A good half of everything they were expecting him, but wasn't. The idea that it might not have been his entire fault was then born in Killua like a refreshing epiphany.

It had put him in the first decent mood the whole week. That was until he just had to choose that moment to check messages on his phone.

Killua knelt down, facing those expectant brown eyes. One partly covered by a loose bandage. He detachedly noted how much cuter it made him look. "Hey."

Gon paused in his admiring of his owner's white hair to whine slightly. He felt hungry.

"Back then, that was a transmutation technique." He was referring to his tutor's arm being cut off. It probably looked like Killua had done it to anyone else, even Aoi. "They were wrong. You can use Enhancement and Transmutation."

He watched as Gon barked and nodded in a proud way, his tail wagging for not the first time that night. Killua felt his eyes following the whip of fur hit the ground before rising back up in the air again. The small motion catalyzed more blood to leak from the shaking leg, staining the cloth above a darker red. Yet that happy-go-lucky demeanor never changed for all the pain he was probably feeling. That ugly smack played itself in his mind again. And suddenly, Killua was pissed all over again.

"Gon," Killua narrowed his eyes, "you should've cut off that woman's arm too."

He'd played several scenarios over in his mind to gauge the other's reaction. After all, what he said was an indirect way of just asking why. But Gon didn't follow any of them. Instead, the Collie limped right up to him and rested his paws on the crouching boy's exposed knees. Immediately, Killua's instincts told him to jump back. He could've gotten his head blown off for all he knew.

But he didn't. His blue irises could only stare and let the small dog lick the now dry blood on his neck away. The alienated warm sensation kept him from moving. The action was simple. There wasn't any sly plan or ill intention behind each gentle lick. It left the assassin speechless. So much that he allowed themselves to stay that way for a full minute, letting the feel of the other's spikey black hair tickle his chin. It felt _nice_.

But moments only lasted so long. Finally realizing what was happening, Killua blinked away his gazed look, but didn't move back. He was still too confused to register it. Did this mean Gon only got so mad if _he_ was threatened? That made no sense; letting his own body get beat up for someone else. It probably did to Gon.

_It won't for very long._

He remembered days when he was really young. Illumi often gave him hugs as a toddler whenever he cried. But all of them ended in a kick to the stomach or a broken arm. At such an age, he was taught that comfort didn't exist in their world. And he shouldn't accept it. Yet here he was all over again. A 1 year old child being hugged by his brother. It felt nice, but was _wrong_.

Killua breathed in.

Then let himself speak, a cold tone lacing his voice.

"You should know. I killed your family."


	6. XL Chocolate III

**Story 2: XL Chocolate Part II**I

A month.

It passed by like a bullet.

Killua had always known time flew when you weren't looking forward to something. That's why he tried to remain nonchalant. But he couldn't help it. After several negotiations and wild goose chases around tight schedules and flights being cancelled, he was finally arranged to meet this weird Ametista person. For the first time. And he was expected to propose to her. On the same day.

_What the hell?_

The idea was so ludicrous the clouds were laughing and decided to rain on this exact date. Maybe she'd have hydrophobia and just stay home. Then he'd be excused from that one month deadline. This morning, that was the only thing Killua had left to hope for. Only to have those hopes crushed when he was shooed out the mansion anyway. Then he resorted to thinking the women would get shot or chewed alive by . That would've been too awesome. He concluded as her pink completely unharmed silhouette appeared in the distance.

Now, he was left loitering on a hideously extravagant bench. Expensive jacket and all the possible dirt on the wood were the least of his problems. He was told to take her shopping at one of the most expensive malls in the country. They were both rich so it didn't matter. A pristine restaurant that was president approved followed before meeting back at the dance hall his mother had booked for them. It would with no doubt be filled to the edges with the rarest jewels and overpriced flowers, not a single piece of chocolate in sight.

There, the Gioiello family would wait to meet him with open arms. Or guns, depending on if Ametista liked him. That was where he was supposed to present her that pink diamond ring. Since he refused to buy one himself, the trinket was actually one Kikyou had ripped from her old dress and stuck on a used gold earring. _How romantic._ Gotoh would be there with a bunch of other butlers, making sure the heir had done just that. And if the night concluded badly, Killua had no clue. Silva ended his sentence there.

The boy was brought out of his thoughts when an excited squeal pierced his ears. He looked up to Ametista who, with quite a dainty manner, sped walked to him while holding up the ruffles of her skirt to avoid the dirt below.

"Killua-sama! Isn't this amethyst beautiful?"

If it was chocolate, maybe. "…Sure, why not."

She stared at the jewel longer before turning back to him. Immediately, that familiar scent of expectance was sent his way from her purple eyes. Ametista Gioiello was an expensive girl. She only had an eye for expensive things to the point of it being comedic. Everything about her spilled out value, from the color of her irises to the long dresses and high heeled leather boots she wore. Men everywhere could read how high of a catch she was. Killua couldn't care less. He was almost certain the girl and her parents assumed several things about him that weren't true. His suspicion was confirmed when all she did was stutter. "A-Aren't you going to buy it for me?"

"Why?" His tone took on something sharp. Something like he was _challenging_ her.

Just like everyone else Killua had ever met, she squeaked. Then hiding the stone behind her back, shyly countered. "Never mind!" And ran off to put it away. Her figure disappeared behind the white shelves of the boutique not moments later.

Killua blinked. Then let out a bored sigh. Was he actually expecting her to say something back? To fight with him over it? Even force him to buy it? It wouldn't have been boring if she did. But she didn't. He leaned back and stared at the white sanitized ceiling. Unconsciously, a scowl marred his face.

_That's it?_

The day was going by, and not once did Killua utter more than three words to his date at a time. She was the polite type. Though he had a sneaking suspicion from her immediate blush when she saw him that it was all an act. He was trained to be an assassin for something. It meant he could read anyone in a heartbeat. _Almost_ anyone.

He groaned. Without warning, that thought rocketed his bad mood to an even worse one.

He hadn't appeared before Killua again since that night.

Many times, Killua had the urge to drop everything to find him again. But he knew he couldn't. And what would he do if he did? If he could see those brown eyes and wagging tail again, what would he say? He never had such an overwhelming need to talk to someone before. Somehow he couldn't help but think everything would just end badly. And that conclusion never ended well with Killua. His eyes which were once cold would be forced into a state of grief, their usual storm looking more like a pathetic mist. His laid-back demeanor sagged further into the chair. Almost like burying his own heart further into a patch of soil. And for one second, Killua felt himself overcome with anger, annoyance, and…longing?

Shaking his head, he inwardly cursed.

Stupid Gon.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The awkwardness between them lasted into the evening. And Killua did everything in his power to keep it that way. He was certain there was not a moment he could recall when his shoulders weren't crouched and eyes narrowed like he would blow up the first thing that touched him. Which happened to be his tailor.

Nevertheless, he found himself in a nearly empty ballroom, Ametista and a purple tie much too tight on his neck at his side. They were an hour early because they couldn't find anything they both wanted to do. Killua couldn't help but feel he had missed his only opportunity to venture outside without being watched. At the same time, he just wanted to get this over with which didn't involve extending their outing for as long as possible.

Knowing Gotoh and the guards would show up any second, he allowed Ametista's gloved hands to latch onto his arm. She held a faint blush on her pale cheeks. It only grew as some of the more punctual guests, all dressed like they were at a tea party for five year olds, began to arrive. It was clear she was excited and nervous.

Killua impatiently curled his toes and stared at an ant on the wall. He on the other hand felt restless and didn't know why.

People were quickly cramming in. The Gioiello family was not a small one. From a crowd building beside them, he noticed a brunette in a pumpkin mermaid dress approach with a forced smile on her face. Ametista beamed at the sight of her, yet the other's nen was spilling out contained jealousy in ugly waves. Killua didn't move when he felt Ametista leave his side to huge the orange-clad girl in relief.

"Topazio! I'm thrilled that you came!"

"Of course. Are you suggesting that I would miss the chance to meet my little's cousin's betrothed?" Her forced grin tensed, gazing at the white-haired teen in lust and Ametista in envy when she thought neither was looking. Killua rolled his eyes. So no one cared what he thought about this marriage. Not even his own fiancée and deranged would-be step cousin.

He understood the second he stepped in. It was the parents and hit men who did all the mafia work as the girls stayed pretty at home without the slightest clue how to control their auras let alone fight. It was a disgrace to think the Zoldyck family would ally themselves to such…_weaklings_. At least that's what Killua thought. But as he's learned countless times, what he thought didn't matter.

"Ametista, you're really lucky to marry such a handsome and influential man."

"Oh," she blushed, sudden happiness at the realization filling her, "thank you."

"In fact, it's too good to be true." Ametista looked shocked at the sudden quip. Yet the overconfident crony found the need to continue. "Oh, excuse me! I am a horrible girl. It's just that I've met many men in the past who reminded me of Killua Zoldyck. Tall, handsome, strong, and powerful. Do not even get me started on the eyes and hair. They just can't keep their hands off every woman they see!"

"Um…" Ametista started only to laugh uncomfortably when Topazio burst out into giggles herself.

"I'm joking, girl! Don't take everything so seriously or you'll grow grey hair." She fanned herself under the heat of the lights, sending Killua one last sly look, and turning back to her cousin. "Seriously though, be careful." It was the last thing out of her bad mouth before they watched her saunter off to a blonde woman halfway across the room.

"K-Killua-sama." Ametista marched back to the boy with keen ears and an unreadable expression on his face. It scared her in many ways. "I'm really sorry about that. M-My cousin can be inappropriate sometimes."

When he didn't reply, she fell silent; opting to grab onto his arm again just to have it shaken off.

"…Your cousin," Killua started, no longer caring how he chose his words nor that he was speaking a full sentence, "called me a gigolo. And you agreed with her."

"H-Huh?" She looked cornered. Her face paled under his stern gaze.

"She called me a whore and you didn't do anything about it." A flash of a scene he'd never forget. It was weeks old, yet to Killua seemed like just happened yesterday. The satisfaction, confusion, and revelation of someone going so far to defend him was still fresh in his mind. And it honestly made him happy.

Ametista looked close to tears. Not because she was hurt. It was her way of dealing with things in the past. "I don't understand. What did you want me to do, Killua-sama? Hurt her?"

"That doesn't matter." He snapped back. Yet his way of avoiding the question made the answer clear to both of them.

"Th-That would be ridiculous, Killua-sama!" Even though they were fighting, the shorter girl was slowly cowering behind her own bangs. She'd never had someone expect so much from her and honestly didn't know what to do. "I will become your wife soon. If I had the reputation as someone who would resort to violence so easily, your reputation would be ruined as well!"

Killua swore he nearly seethed. Nearly yelled at her and everyone around them. The whole day he was dealing with this impossible obedient girl who had no fight, no determination, and did everything she was told. It was dumb. He shouldn't be so pissed in that description fit under being the perfect fiancée. By Zoldyck definition, he should've been thrilled.

_Then why am I so mad? _

Killua found himself trying not to lose his temper more than he should have the past few hours. He still held his tongue before. But not this time. This time the assassin was one-hundred percent certain _Gon_ wouldn't hesitate to punch that Topaz-woman in the face. And here was his supposed girlfriend, the one he would be claiming to be his closest person just minutes away, standing there like a moron while it happened. In other words, she was half of everything he couldn't stand about the Zoldyck family. This decision shouldn't have been so hard. And despite years of trying to live up to what his parents wanted, what he did next was automatic.

"W-Where are you going?"

Killua was one step out the door, without looking back once.

The hall was nearly as detailed as the main ballroom. Decorated by gold as carvings of angels being eaten by devils littered every wall. Pillars of pearl white clay were constructed by the finest artists and danced around the paintings like an intricate maze. All of this went unnoticed by the white-haired teen. His goal was to go straight through the doors leading outside, pocketing the awful tie as he walked.

Only to be stopped by a group of men in black, all clad in suits yet with completely different styles. They were clearly the guards hired to ensure the night went by smoothly. Even with their Zetsu, Killua could sense how strong they were from a mile away. They were still a lot weaker than him. But as a group could do some damage. "And where are you headed, Mr. Zoldyck?"

"Out." His lips moved on their own. Killua subconsciously prepared himself in an offensive position. Maybe this could be settled through talking. "Away from here."

"We can't let you leave. We're being paid a bucket load for this job, you know." And that was the end of the talk. Just a second before Killua was about to leap forward to escape. A second before he would jump into possibly being injured to do it, an unseen force filled his senses. By instinct he stopped mid-pounce but the guards ran forward. A violent wind rushed past them. And, just as quickly, they all fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

Killua straightened himself, disbelief lacing his voice. "…Gotoh? Kurapika?"

The two addressed appeared from behind a pillar. The familiar coin still danced between the head butler's fingers. A ruby bounced from the Kurta's left ear. Both wearing strange looks, neither seeming upset nor happy as they closed the distance towards him. They were clearly leagues stronger than the moneybags from before, taking them all out in the blink of an eye. If Killua had to face them to escape, it wouldn't be a _possibility_. He was sure he would be injured. Common sense dictates he quietly retreat.

Yet when Silva's stern stare flashed in his brain, Killua made up his mind instantly. "I'm leaving." Then a small bundle of black fur. "And I'm not marrying her."

He was shocked speechless. Instead of a blade to the throat and chain choking the life out of his arms, the assassin was met with small smiles. Of all things. Even a light chuckle from the normally composed blonde with red eyes, their color quickly draining back to a grey brown. "We figured we couldn't stop you."

"There were about a hundred more men waiting outside. They're taken care of, master Killua." The addressed blinked. Then realization sunk in. Kurapika and Gotoh knew he'd be leaving. And they sided with him. Despite every question that swam inside Killua's head, he let nothing out but a grateful smirk.

"Thanks." And left. For the last time.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"_Is there someone on your mind, Killua? Don't wait until it's too late."_

The assassin was fumbled and flustered. Those were Kurapika and Gotoh's last words to him. And just as his quick mind registered those words, Killua found himself blushing cherry red down to his neck. It wasn't even because they held a deeper meaning or coded tease. That question just catalyzed a jolt of realizations to sink in. Like he'd been exposed to a whole new page to connect the dots. Knees nearly met ground from the heavy weight. Killua would like to think he was good at hiding his emotions. But clearly they saw through them all. It was only at the last second did his shoe catch itself on gravel midway and stop. Then, confused and irritated, said a shaky goodbye and left the two men who cared about him on the block.

There _was_ someone on his mind. That someone wouldn't leave the whole month, not during harsh training practices, not on dangerous missions that involved life or death, not even during the date with miss rich and cry. Gon wouldn't budge from his pretty spot in his brain. And Killua wasn't sure if he actually _liked_ it.

It was fun being around Gon. They barely knew each other yet formed a trust between them that no words could explain. The two became instant best friends. He was neither scared to butt heads with the assassin nor uncomfortable crossing boundaries around Killua. When it came down to it, the puppy would throw down whatever risk there was to save his owner. He sometimes went overboard. But just how strongly Gon was willing to act against what he didn't like would always make Killua feel light-headed and warm. Though he refused to admit it. And just until now, didn't think to know why.

No one could make him happy so instantaneously before. No one could trust him unconditionally like that. And as he felt the cold air hitting his cheeks on the deserted walkway, the reason why he was so pissed about the wedding slapped him in the face. So pissed that his wife would be the Gioiello girl. His excuse was twisted, but sounded right. She wasn't Gon. No one else could be.

Does that mean he loves Gon?

Killua choked. His foot nearly tripped against a crack in the sidewalk. He felt like such a pervert. _For the love of chocolate, Gon's a dog! _That didn't stop red from coloring pale skin or his heart from beating faster when he thought of him. It's not like he wanted to kiss him passionately. Or do anything kinky like everyone else would when they claimed to love another man or woman. Killua just…_wanted to be with him. _More than as a boy and his dog, yet not lovers either.

Not a second later, the boy felt stupid.

He'd heard sayings. They all said that trust was something easily broken.

Gon's house and home were stripped from him, that little girl who the dog obviously loved murdered. No matter how strong a bond they were about to form was ruined by the simple fact that Killua was an assassin. It would be asking for the world and more to think Gon didn't hate him. And even if he didn't, that budding friendship between them would never be the same. Killua would have to rebuild it from miniscule scratches.

But it wouldn't be nothing. It wouldn't be the nothing he had when in his home.

_Ex-home._ He knew his family and butlers wouldn't come looking for him. Killua was given one last chance by his father, and this was his answer. An abandoned child and disgrace to the Zoldyck family was all he was now. But that didn't matter. He was free to do whatever he wanted now. To feel that happiness, he was free to search for Gon again.

An unknown euphoria suddenly filled every part of his being. And everything seemed brighter.

"Yeah…" The cold breeze halting, Killua smiled. "I guess I do love Gon."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

He walked the path he memorized by heart. His first stop was to see Satotz, the owner of Café Chocorobo. It was around that corner where he had split up with Gon a month ago and it was possible the man may have seen the dog loitering around. Maybe, quite possibly, know where the collie had run off to. To his luck, the tall awkward owner knew that and much more.

"Gon-kun? Yes. He came back one day and wouldn't leave the porch no matter what. He became a bit of a guard dog for me. However I could never coax him into moving from his spot; even in the rain."

Killua frowned. Satotz went on to talk about how a friend of his volunteered to take Gon in. Yet it was clear the albino's mind was somewhere else. He hadn't visited the café once since their split up. Illumi and the rest of his family were so disgusted by what happened to Aoi that they wouldn't give him the time of day to go out. He'd been a bird in a cage, a rat in a basket, a turtle stuck on the back of its shell, and reduced to whatever other metaphor there was for weeks.

He had no doubt Gon was starving and had probably wandered on their mansion by mistake the first time. Then as he was brought out of the Zoldyck Estate, was purposely put to sleep to prevent any resistance. So Gon had no idea where Killua lived. And here he was, the whole time they were apart, waiting for him in the next best place. The place of meetings. It took time to take this new bit of information in. But the first thing that came to mind let Killua release the breath he didn't know he was holding.

_Does that mean…he forgives me?_

Without thinking, Killua dashed out the store after being given the address, not bothering to listen to the rest of the man's explanation. It was the aftermath of a downpour. Everything was wet and still smelled like dew. When he heard the booming splash of his foot against the drying puddles, he didn't even care he was faltering from his assassin's stride. All on his mind were chants of _I can't believe it!_

Finding Gon would be easy. He didn't think of himself as blessed when it came to keeping friends. He was always alone because he was Killua. And left it at that. But the theory had instantly done a one eighty on itself.

The euphoria he described only grew ten times.

When Killua reached a new part of town, sounds of crickets blasted him akin to a breath of fresh air. He ignored the symphony in favor of rushing down the street like he was a business man late for work. If a piece of paper was crumpled between his fingers, it would've been thrown away. But the address was already burned in his memory. In minutes, his feet carried him to an unknown teal building with round windows at the end of the crossway. It was like a dream. He almost through it was. So an indescribable sense of relief washed over him as he neared closer and realized it wasn't.

Just on the other side, Gon would be waiting for him.

The structure looked uncared for from the endless dandelions sprouting between jagged rocks. A rusty sign was painted above the canopy which resided one of the rare dry spots protected from the storm. Without bothering to read it, Killua rudely stepped in the sliding doors. He wasn't aware of the sudden smile threatening to spill from his mouth. With it came the one name he'd been dying to call out.

"**GON!**"

Only to be met with an empty waiting room. In the middle stood an old-looking man, a doctor's coat wrapped around his shoulders. Used pens hung from his shirt pocket and every part of him screamed that he belonged in the medical field.

"Oh, you must be Killua." The teen stopped, confused. "I'm Doctor Leorio Paladiknight. Let me explain."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was near midnight when he finally left the clinic. It was raining again. But its sounds were drowned out by an engine that greeted him outside. The modest car it belonged to wasn't shocking. However the person standing next to it was the last thing he expected to see. Yet his eyes remained stoic even as the shorter figure motioned him inside.

Killua complied without protest. He didn't buckle his seat belt. He was sick of staring at autopsies and posters of smiling children. The silver door halted from being slammed just long enough for one phrase to slip out.

"It's been a while, Kill."

"Don't…" Killua felt weak. Against odds he managed to continue. "…call me that."

The old man didn't say anything. Simply pivoted himself to the other side so he could take the wheel. Killua could only register a fly on the window with a missing leg that retreated as the vehicle started up. Everything else passed by like a blur. From the shining street signs, the sudden rain and thunder that decided to pour, and the homeless parents on the streets begging for money. He couldn't move. Not even to look away from the window. It was a miracle he could function long enough to get in his seat just minutes before.

"You should know." The silence faltered when the driver decided to speak. "I only agreed to taking you in because I owe Mister Gotoh and Satotz some favors in the past, and they told me you'd be here…"

So that's what happened. Gotoh, Kurapika, or Satotz looking after him again. It was surprising, that Gotoh knew where he was the whole time.

"And because you're my equally crazy grandson, of course."

Zeno went on to talk about where he lived. A small town in the middle of a peaceful island. Then he went on about how he planned to enroll him at a public school instead of taking in any tutors. Whatever the old man jabbered next, Killua decided to tune him out. They were both run away's now; outlaws to the Zoldyck name.

It wasn't that he didn't like his grandfather. No, the old fart was probably the only one in his messed up family that gave him the time of the day back when he was around. He was sure that if he did pay attention, his thoughts were too forgone to register any of it. He was still trying to comprehend what took place just half an hour ago.

"_What…What do you mean?"_

"_Take a look here, Killua. It was a mystery at first what caused all of this. After a few X-rays I managed to figure it out."_

"_Then why didn't you fix it?!"_

Killua felt his finger twitching from under his thigh. It was starting to fall asleep.

"_Rotational Head Injury cannot be treated. If it wasn't for the sudden internal bleeding from the nerve fibers no one would have noticed it. He would've died whether we caught it or not."_

_Temper flared. "And what caused it?"_

A tingling sensation overtook his palm. But he still refused to move. He was just playing around back then. He didn't know.

"_In this case, a blunt strike on the neck. The dent in his spinal cord is a little over a month old. Can you recall an accident where this happened?"_

Thunder crashed far off to set his quick revelation. He could recall exactly. It was then, a month ago. Ice cream in hand, Killua felt nothing more than the overwhelming need to return to devouring it. His playful first encounter with the dog that quickly won over his heart was as good as dead the moment he met him. The moment he struck the Border Collie unconscious with his own two hands.

"…_WHAT THE HELL?!"_

And before he knew it, tears were running down his blank face.

"Gon…" Killua whispered under his breath. The sky above shone without a single star. "I'm sorry."

He would never be more than a murderer at heart.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

A few weeks passed before the start of school.

He was told by Zeno that everyone else was on something called summer vacation. But Killua didn't lag behind. He still trained his nen every day, lifting the largest boulders he could find in the mornings and visiting the alleyway famous for criminal activity at night. The rest of the time was spent in his new room, video games blaring at full volume and chocolate never put away. Even though it was a change of pace, he found himself not minding any of it.

One thing made him uncomfortable. He was free to go out and do his normal routine, but not once had attempted to make a single friend. The shady parts of the island were memorized like the back of his hand. They did live there after all. But that area beyond the borders where Killua's school lay and the other kids his age were, he avoided like the plague.

As Killua stared at the cozy building, he could only wonder what he was so scared of.

His day went by and school wasn't anything like he expected. The uniforms were comfortable. The classes were still boring, and surprisingly easy. Some of his classmates and teachers knew about nen but only few were better than him. No one looked at him in fear. If anything, they continued staring at him all period. No matter if they were boy or girl, they all admired or asked him out on the first day. _Creepy. _But he'd take this over another Aoi tutor in a heartbeat.

The ex-assassin kicked a pebble lying on the grass. It was lunch hour and he felt grumpy. He knew he should be happy with his new life. But something felt missing. He still hadn't made a friend and somehow it was bugging him. Making him restless. His bored sapphire eyes panned across the street before landing on something unexpected that made them widen simultaneously. Then all Killua could do was stare.

_"Even I don't know how or why. This place is just like that."_

Too many memories…

Despite his mind telling him to stop, his body carried him across the road and into the door in minutes. He ordered and paid the cashier, paying no mind to his surroundings as he plopped on the first seat he saw. Bringing the cup to his lips, Killua drank his hot chocolate as slowly as possible. The warm drink on his throat stung.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at nothing. Birds could be heard chirping from outside. Children laughing. Coworkers complaining about work. One of the younger kids from his school spilt coffee on their backpack and the girl passing by helped him out. Everything was just so unbearably happy compared to him.

Sometime halfway, he stopped sipping and glared at his own cup.

_Why am I here?_

"You're crying."

Shocked, it took the white-haired boy a full second to realize someone was speaking to him. Without taking his eyes away from the swirling chocolate, he answered. "…I am?"

"Yeah, why?" Killua felt a crumpled tissue being shoved in his face. Then his ears made out the screech of this person taking a seat across from him. Suppose he should've found the question rude. Or be suspicious at this noisy stranger. But he was surprised that he didn't mind.

In this rare moment of trust, Killua told as much of the truth as he could. The words still choked off his tongue like needles. "This place…was the last one." Then shut his mouth in favor of silence.

"Oh." It was the only answer he received for an awkward minute. Then, the voice spoke up again. "Café Chocorobo…it's where people meet after not seeing each other for a long time, right?"

Killua nodded, feeling dumb, embarrassed, and like crap for confiding in a complete stranger. He couldn't stop himself from running his own mouth. He'd been a handicap to the Zoldyck family for that very reason since he was born. It was the one thing he couldn't control, at least until recently. To think just a while ago he was so close to becoming as uncaring and apathetic as Illumi.

Now all he could do was wipe those stupid tears away.

"You're soiling your hot chocolate." For a second, Killua thought the voice was mocking him. But the clear un-judging tone it held dispelled the idea as soon as it came. When he peered down, he realized some of his salty tears really had dripped away to be caught by the gaudily colored cup below. "Here."

He blinked when he heard the sound of a bag unzipping. Just as the tissue was, a warm thermos was thrust towards him this time. The only explanation Killua got was that it was hot chocolate. Instinct telling him there was nothing wrong; the albino uttered 'thanks' and carefully opened the lid.

"I was told that the hot chocolate I make can stop anyone from crying! But you know what else helps too?"

As soon as the drink entered his mouth, an overwhelming warmth of nostalgia overtook his senses. When it swished against his cheek, he felt his tight shoulders relax and restless body deflate. As the mysterious liquid made its way down his throat, Killua was left wondering why it tasted so familiar.

Then, just like a train, it hit him.

"A hug." Before he knew it, the ex-assassin felt arms wrap comfortingly around his form. The action made him blush red. His last tear shed at the remaining bitter sweet taste on his tongue. When they parted, Killua could only look up to meet honey brown eyes looking at him like they were best friends.

-H-H-H-XL-Chocolate-End-H-H-H-

**Sorry for the delay. University's a jerk.**

**For those wondering, human!Gon and dog!Gon are not the same person. Killua was told Gon the dog was killed by him and there's nothing that can change that. But that's what second love is for, right? Hope the ending was satisfying enough.**


	7. I've Found You I

**Story 3: I've Found You**

The wood creaked as its hinges banged against each other. It was an old horse, several pounds underweight forced to carry an even older wagon that required at least two to move. Only promises of no lashings and a cornmeal that night kept wheels turning. But it wasn't only the horse. Getting through the forest was a team effort. Hedges that obscured the way were clipped and gravel on the low sides cleared. They were on their way to a secretive village in the depths of the woods. It seemed only the ones in the wagon itself were not helping.

"We'll stop here, only for 10 minutes." A voice spoke, and once it did, everybody listened. No one dared disobey their leader. Chrollo knew this too well. "Anyone who tries to run away will only make a fool of themselves."

As soon as they stopped, someone from the pack who was clearing rubble, bolted from the group. No one watched him leave. He was always the only one trusted enough to not run away when given the freedom to explore. His legs couldn't carry him very far with the heavy iron chains tied to his ankles. But that didn't mean he didn't get a lot of chances.

Gon ran in the direction of running water, buckets in hand. His sandals that barely covered the tips of his toes got drenched in the onslaught. They would start freezing in a few hours, "but for now it feels amazing!" He leaned down to fill the buckets, but not before submerging his whole head into the body. Droplets of water drooped from the tips of his spikey and once dirty hair. There was no harm in taking his time since his mental clock was almost completely accurate.

"Hey Pairo, over here!" Immediately, Gon realized he wasn't alone. Over the edge of rocks and behind a tree, he spotted a blond in unusual clothes at the top of a boulder. Beneath him, there was a shorter brunet struggling to climb up. "I bet you can't climb as high as _this_."

"Kurapika." The other laughed and whined at the same time. "You know you're a better climber. Plus, you're way taller than me!"

Gon watched from his spot in the lake. The two looked to be around 17, the coming of age, yet enjoying as much of their time off as possible before next year hit. _Too bad I can't say hi._ His shoulders sagged. The number one rule the people of his pack was told: don't _look_ at anyone, don't _talk_ to anyone, to anyone you don't _exist_.

There were times when he simply didn't think. As he glanced back once in a while, as he keenly spotted a crack form under the blond's blue shoes, neither but him noticed, all of that was thrown out of his head in a heartbeat.

"WATCH OUT!" Gon's yell reached in time. The taller one skillfully leapt off the boulder and landed on the ground just as the brown-haired boy jumped out of the way of the sharp falling rubble. The aftermath was dusty. When it cleared, no one was hurt. This made Gon's smile widen as he waved back at the two who silently thanked and obviously acknowledged his existence.

_Heehee, that rule was always weird._

This put Gon in high spirits as he collected the rest of the water and sprinted back to the site with frostbitten toes. No one was surprised at his early return, latching the buckets to the old horse that seemed grumpy at being woken up. This was by far the longest trip they'd ever made. Gon didn't expect it to be much different; which was why he could only blink and nod when an older woman beside the dark corner of rotting hay called him over.

Some tattered pieces of paper were shoved in the pocket of his dirty linen shirt. Gon reached in to check what it was, but the woman roughly grabbed his hand as soon as it moved. "Don't show it to anyone."

"Oba-chan, what is it?"

Her finger waggled to tell him to keep it down. "Listen, boy. Have you ever asked why you're the only young one here?"

The boy raised a brow. "That sounds boring. Everyone is nice to me."

"You're a bright and strong child for your age." She fidgeted and sighed, like in overwhelming nervousness and disappointment. "All the others were killed for being too weak: not being able to carry the sacks of ash every morning as you do, not feeding the fireplace fast and long enough, or dying off in alleys from their depression.

Gon, you're a slave."

"Is something wrong with that?"

"What's wrong is that you _don't_ belong here!" The woman raised her voice just a split second. It was enough for those around to look their way. Some ran off to report to their leader, signaling a bad omen. "You're not a normal slave. Children wouldn't be assigned the heavy lives because they're underdeveloped, yet you're working away. You're only here because of that wretched debt bondage caused by your filthy father."

Gon smiled, albeit blankly. "I know, Oba-chan. But what's in my pocket?"

She stared at him. What kind of reaction was that? It was almost as if the boy had been through this conversation countless times. No, that can't be it. After moments she forced herself to shake off the feeling of her own unease. "That," a wrinkly finger pointed, "is the 1000 yen, about 10 dollars, I've been saving since last spring."

"Really?" Gon gapped, "that much?!"

"Yes." Her old eyes hardened. "And if you ever sneak it back to me, I'll never forgive you. I want you to run away with it. Run away and don't look back. You're the only one with a chance to make it. Almost everyone here agrees. What do you think?"

"No." It was almost instantaneous, the woman nearly fell over.

"Wh-What?!" She clearly didn't consider this answer. Gon was a brave kid and could live in the wild, or even escape to the city and start a life there. He had the charisma to nab a job that was a thousand times better than this. By now, all thoughts of keeping quiet left her. "Are you scared? Is it because your great grandmother's here?! We'll set her free too!"

"That's not it." Gon shook his head with a smile. "Sorry, I have to decline your offer."

"B-But WHY-"

"Well, looks like the quiet old ladies are the ones to look out for." They both froze, looking up to the meet the cold navy eyes of their calm leader. Chrollo relished the feelings of fear radiating off the crippled lady, before marching over to the small boy in confident steps.

"This," he placed a hand atop Gon's head, he had a habit of referring to his favorite slaves as 'it', "would never leave. You just don't understand." Then, he faced one of the bearded men behind him. One he had dragged over in his entrance. "Give me those hedge shears."

With one pair of shaky hands and others still as stone, the metal clippers were handed over. Not a single scream had the time to escape. Then, in a single shot across braided skull, the bloodied metal clippers were handed back. "Now wash those. I have gotten blood on my sleeves as well."

Gon was left alone with the corpse. He didn't cry whenever one of them was killed. It was always over in a second. Chrollo wasn't a fan of torture and for that; some could be thankful or hateful. Gon was one of those who felt neither. But that small frown that tugged on his lips never failed to present itself. Especially since, after all, that woman had gotten killed because of him.

He could only collect the ragged hay and upturned dirt and bury the once breathing creature in the best imitation of a grave he could muster in the minute he had left. For half a second, he considered shoving the money back into her pockets but decided against it. With now bloodied hands and the stench of corpse all around him, he restarted his day from where it left off.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

They had reached the first half of the trek a few hours ago. Most of these trips involved the main troupe, which consisted of Chrollo and a few of his teammates, raiding lowlife towns and kidnapping the strongest of the bunch to sell as slaves to sweat shops and factories. This time was different. Once in a while, some new erotic drug or a kinky television trend would start up. This was around when sex slaves became more in season. Buyers popped up everywhere. The villages they snuck into had to be much more carefully selected.

Gon never liked being around when they reached one of their 'destinations'. He was always told to stay a few miles away with the rest of the group, processing gunpowder and preparing the tranquilizers for when the new products came in. It was boring because no one talked to him. They were too scared or cold, since a thorough check required everyone to stay overnight. They slept in wooden boards chopped down in under an hour, dirty old clothes covering the cracks where wind swept through.

"See here?" It was morning. One of the sharper middle-aged men gestured towards a batch coming in. They were neither muscular nor gruff, substituting those qualities for alluring and youthful. "They have their eyes on the Kurta Clan this time."

"The Kurta Clan?"

"Unlike most parts of the world, the water around here is clear and free of pollution of them rich city folk." He explained. "That added to what I hear of the rich wildlife, and most of the women and young boys are quite the lookers."

The older man chuckled at the blank look on Gon's face. "You'll understand one day. Now help me steady the other side of the rope while the cage is being loaded."

The spiky-haired boy complied, tying the rope almost lethally around his left wrist, and using his right hand and teeth to pull back. It was a way to compensate for his smaller size, and worked for the first pen. He did his best to block out the cries of young children by gnawing hard at the strings. It wasn't until the second round that things went horribly wrong.

It had started out normally. The air drowned with cries, Gon secretly sent encouraging smiles to the smaller children once in a while. _You can make it._ What he didn't expect was to see a familiar head of blond and brown hair both curled in the corner. The blond was bundled in his own limbs. But Gon could make out the other's, he thinks his name was Pairo, blank eyes.

He must have somehow gone blind sometime between yesterday and today.

It didn't nearly jerk him as much; cause him to freeze, until he saw Kurapika raise his head up the slightest of centimeters. Tears streaked in many paths, shaking legs, and bloodied clothes, and eyes almost a shade of red in color. The once almost childish vibe the taller one held and Gon witnessed just a day ago vanished completely into a silent rage. The charisma was gone. It was a 360 transformation he had never seen in his life.

It was that moment of shock, when Gon couldn't move, when a much larger man bumped into him from behind. "Oh, sorry!" And just like that, the rope fell from his grip, wiped into the air in random directions, and flew off the pulley in a single second. The next thing he knew, the cage opened and Kurta members ran from all around him. Every single body bolted from the site as quickly as possible, all except the two boys. Kurapika made to run but could neither see past salty anger nor leave his tripping now blinded friend behind.

"Why you little brat!" A lion-like man towered over Gon. He was one of Chrollo's closest employees. "Because of you we lost a whole batch!"

The man beast nearly snapped Gon's neck in half, until a calm hand came in between. "Calm down, Uvogin." It was Chrollo. He had sent more than enough of his troupe to round up the ones that escaped. "Or do you not trust Machi and Phinks to be able to handle it?"

"Humph, of course not!"

"Then allow me to deal with this." Gon eyed Kurapika and Pairo, both held down by a patient Nobunaga. To his shock, Chrollo handed him a blade. It wasn't very sharp but could easily kill if used correctly. Uvogin tapped his foot. He was just disappointed he didn't get to snap anyone's heads in half. Their boss always had some roundabout but ultimately superior way to deal with things. Today was no exception.

The proud leader signaled towards the hostages. "Since they distract you so much, kill them."

"What?"

"I said, kill them."

The rest of the slaves had cleverly continued on with their work, ignoring the scene before them. Some scoffed under long bangs and others crushed rocks beneath them. But nothing could be done to get the youngest out of this situation. Not even Kurapika and Pairo, who waited, could form a single sentence. Let alone know what to do.

But to Gon, the decision always came at the heart of the moment.

Blood splattered to the floor, a shocked gasp emitted when Gon embedded the blade right into Nobunaga's thigh.

Kurapika and Pairo were dropped in recoil. Much more prepared, Kurapika picked up his blind companion and stumbled down the dirt incline. Chrollo was nearly 30 feet away, too far to give chase. So the Kurta's instincts told him to run. His mind wasn't capable of faulting back to Gon. Not until they were well out of earshot and any communication between them was easily lost. Or so they thought.

"…"

Behind loud rustling and battle cries, Gon could make out faint words. They were screamed, held up by a wall of gratefulness and smashed under the weight of regret. They had run away without thinking; knew they couldn't come back to help him.

No way. He hated doing things just to get something back. Even as Chrollo grabbed his growing mob of hair, throwing his frail body into the open cage headfirst until the taste of blood filled his tongue, and even as he felt himself lose consciousness, Gon couldn't help but feel satisfied.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

One day.

One day; nearly everyone in the wooden house had heard what Gon had done. It was no secret, with Uvogin roaring around and yelling about "that useless Nobunaga". It was hard to miss.

They also heard that dropping well water on the floors of the mansion resulted in a lashed back. Badmouthing a higher up led to fingernails being peeled off one by one. No breaks in between to clean off the blood. Those who gave incorrect orders to push on the right hand shaft instead of the left would be drowned; resuscitated just before the point of death.

Gon wasn't one to fidget. Yet when he was called to the front of the pits, a bubbling anxiety gnawed his empty stomach. They had added another 40 pounds to his chains but that was it. Ankles bruised and growing a sickly purple in color, Gon knew that was far from what the owners were capable of. Just a few hours ago, his grandmother was moved from her spot in the wooden tent. There she usually spent her days bedridden and weaving clothes. But she was an old lady. She couldn't have gone anywhere on her own.

His suspicions were confirmed when he spotted the wrinkled body, half motionless on the drought-ridden ground and the other half in a barrel. That familiar face he'd been seeing more and more often blank. Chrollo had a plan.

"Let me show you something interesting."

Shalnark, a young-looking man with a strange obsession wearing pink, brought the barrel upright. For a second, the two let Gon observe silently. Brown eyes focused on the other picking up a nail. Then they froze when he drove it right into the side of the wood, barehanded. Immediately, a raspy cry pierced through their ears.

"Grandma!" Gon tried to shove Chrollo away, but was no match. Another nail and scream, this time much weaker. He glared right up into those cold navy eyes. "Cut it out. She has nothing to do with this!"

"I think I won't."

Now with a knife pressed against his throat, Gon could only watch in amplifying anger. Like some useless jerk. Another and grandma begged Shalnark to stop. Three more and red streaks began painting the sides. It was at the tenth or eleventh impale that he couldn't take it anymore.

Years of practice in pulling ropes came in handy. Grabbing Chrollo's wrist, Gon twisted with all his strength. It made Chrollo let go, but the blade plunged into his neck for the trick to work. It came to him later that Chrollo had cleverly placed his arm in that angle. But for now it hurt like hell. Gon ignored the blood littering his shoulder in favor for diving at Shalnark.

But something he didn't fathom happened.

As if expecting this, Shalnark pushed the barrel right from the top of the hill. It rolled, almost like a game. Each turn and it felt like eleven more nails being driven to her side. Each turn and it left a repulsive gush of blood on the dry grass. Each turn and Gon was almost certain his great grandmother was dead.

_No way._

Every last push Gon had left, he used. His legs tripped over a branch but kept running. He was next to the bloody now turning teary scene in seconds. And suddenly, it sunk in.

She was gone.

"**D-DAMN IT!**"

"Was that a good idea?" Shalnark wondered, minutes after it was over and the two were walking off. "He could just run away now. Or even try to kill you."

"It won't." Chrollo was certain, so much that it left the other staring for a moment. He chuckled. "You see, that foolish man Ging is everyone's downfall. His dirty hands had stolen and robbed me of such an accumulative debt, and pained many in my box for it. Now his foolish son will never run away from paying him back. Let alone attempt murder."

Shalnark smiled. "Ah, that's the kind of person he is."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

As followed, Shalnark's predictions were never wrong. Demand for the erotic slave division had sky rocketed within the next two weeks. Men, ranging from rich merchants owning rape camps to drunks with barely enough to pay for the ugliest and dirtiest in the cell came. Even women sauntered in; high and mighty but no better. Some profited from Chrollo's high prices, while most woke up at the sunrise after their night of fun, forced to keep the products in the basement. Hidden from very successful wives slowly being mooched off.

In the peak of sales, something strange happened. A particular man marched in one day. Not like any other, with wavy bright maroon hair, white face powder complimented by a heart and tear drop drawn beneath his eyes, and finishing with clown-like clothes. Chrollo, who happened to be in the shop that day, resisted the urge to tell the man that no, they were not interested in coming to their circus in town.

"Do you need something?" It wasn't polite. But people in the business weren't.

The man almost danced to the counter. The way his thin eyes looked Chrollo up and down almost seemed like he wanted to buy _him_ as the slave. Luckily, the disgusting idea never came up. "Let's see your selection, hmm?"

One thing was certain. Looks could be deceiving. This clown creature at first glance, didn't look like the picky type. But ended up rejecting that beautiful blonde for being too full, clothes made to show every curve. That weak purple-eyed boy was left behind for by his words "spilling immaculacy in sickly waves". Chrollo was beginning to lose patience around the time the man was casting out a red-head for being too flimsy, muttering something about cougars and cats not being compatible. The most popular types were moved aside on the spot. It left a bad taste in Chrollo's mouth.

"Are you really looking for a sex slave?"

"You could say that." The clown, who later introduced himself as Hisoka, hummed. The now bored man peered out the small window at the back, barely the size of a head. Then, a sly smirk formed. "But no, I think a bride would be more exciting."

"Bride?" He hid his shock behind a well raised eyebrow. "That's a new one."

"Not for me, unfortunately." Hisoka sang to himself, pouting when he eyed the old men digging outside. He could tell this was a strong leader. One who wouldn't allow one imperfection or rift within his business. Chrollo knew how to use his resources. Everything, down to the age and eye color of the slaves was organized in a highly planned way that optimized revenue. Everything, except one.

"And who might that be?"

Chrollo followed his gaze. It landed on a head of black, once spikey but now rolled up to the side in a familiar bloody hairpin. He must've taken it from his grandmother's bloody corpse. How cute. "Oh? That's one of my favorite slaves. I'm afraid it's not for sale."

Hisoka crossed his arms. How interesting. It was rare that a farmer would refuse selling one of his slaves, much less a kid. He stood. It wouldn't hurt to observe longer, silently listing reasons why that would be so. Chrollo was about to kick him out if he wasn't buying, but instead was interrupted by a question.

"How much is she carrying on those chains?"

Chrollo looked amused. Gon only had minimal proportions to eat after long days, under seven pounds of cornmeal every month. All meat found or hunted was to be brought to storage. So the boy had a small stature for his 15 years of age. Many guessed him to be eleven or twelve at first meeting. Now with his new hairstyle, the malnutrition body could easily be mistaken for a girl. It wasn't his problem. Though, he knew stories of men who brutally murdered their slave right in the middle of intercourse for such a thing. Only to realize a lawsuit couldn't be filed at all for the contract Chrollo had them sign.

"75 pounds."

"Oh." Hisoka licked his lips. Chrollo's eye twitched.

Surely even if one thought Gon was a girl, an under aged girl would be what he was. It wasn't his business, but made him curious. "15 years old, is that not too young?"

"We don't worry about that where I come from." Chrollo didn't question it. The state of laws around other parts was not of his concern. Despite all the prude signs being given off, instinct told him to give it a chance.

"The load for all working slaves is the same, even if they're children." This perked the clown's eyebrow further. "As you can see, this is the only one who's still alive. I believe it will fetch a luxury price. Unless you're willing to pay one hundred and eighteen times the normal amount, you should leave."

He didn't. "Hmm, that would make her the best one you have I presume."

"Yes."

"Hiding her from the display window to look for the right buyer? How savvy of you."

Strangely, Hisoka left it at that. The somewhat vain clown began making his way back to the entrance, away from the line of cells and foul-smelling ditches nearby. Chrollo wasn't complaining. As long as the weird man left. At least, that's what he fooled himself to having the privilege to look forward to.

Instead, he was motioned by the other to come outside. And waiting for the both of them on the sandy driveway stood a wagon and horse. Not old and rusty, but geometrically pristine. What their focus landed on however, was neither the purebred black stallion nor handcrafted woodwork. Chrollo stepped closer. From the windows and roof, bags of sapphire and silver protruded in precarious lumps.

He smiled a rare smile. "By the way, it's final sale."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Gon stared out the glass window of what he was told was a car. They had ridden the wagon without a single word exchanged. At the border, muscular soldiers in suits immediately confiscated their rental horse. In its place they now rode a long black limo in seats that made the boy feel uncomfortable. Valleys of dirt morphed into sleek gravel roads and tall concrete buildings. He had no idea such a place existed. Yet the quietness ate away his excitement.

With nothing else to do, his mind wandered back to the day before.

It was raining the night before he left. Cold to the point that water turned to hail. Every last worker had to curl in the tightest of bundles to keep from freezing. Any and all extra clothes were stuffed into the cracks of their cabin. Yet the ground remained cold beneath their bodies. While everyone else was tired, Gon almost felt excited. He always thought he'd either one day be sold to a sweatshop or working here his whole life. Getting chosen as a bride was something rare and un-expected.

The others thought so too. Some stayed awake with him, poking his side and dancing a flame near his face. Gon opened his eyes. He saw a lit wax candle over a small lump of dark brown he had never seen in his life. One of the younger men, about thirty, told him how they had snuck the smallest piece out of the grand kitchen. When Gon asked what it was, the word rolled off his tongue.

"_Cho-colate?"_

The sweet had put him on high for the rest of the night. Gon was deeply thankful for the others who looked after him, and took the time to give each of them a hug. It put him in good spirits, until one man, the one who was digging with him the day they visited the Kurta clan, pulled him aside.

"_No matter what happens, don't let anyone know you're a boy. Gon."_ He held the youth's shoulders. _"Brides are different from sex slaves. They cannot be touched until after marriage. You have time to run away before it's too late."_

Gon was confused. Why would they kill him just because he was a boy? Thinking wasn't his strong point, but it gave him something to ponder until the car came to a halt and Hisoka motioned him out. The man honestly gave him goose bumps. The bad kind that made his hair stand on end. He was only relieved of the other's perverse stare when Hisoka snapped his fingers and pushed him inside a musty run down salon. Lights were everywhere.

Inside, an eccentric woman sat reading a magazine. The sight of Gon standing curiously at the door confused her. A thoughtful look crossed her face, as if dreading something. _A slave?_

But she quickly jumped up to greet him. It turns out her name was Linda. Not seeing children often, the lady talked a mile a minute. Gon only managed to give her his named before learning right away that the woman lived in a two-room apartment. She worked part-time at a hospital and full-time here. It was all to pay for her six children at home. He never heard about someone else's life so suddenly before. At least someone who wasn't a slave themself. He concluded she must not be a bad person. But that didn't mean she wasn't annoying.

Linda possessed star-shaped glasses and a keen eye to putting him in every cute, strange, or revealing dress she had along with convincing words to buy them all. What came out of it were several bags of clothes Gon didn't even want, a curly orange wig that completely hid his messy hair, and a pair of annoying circles that stung his eyes and turned his irises into a bright shade of purple. How unusual.

When Hisoka stood up to pay the bill, Gon squirmed in the makeup chair. His old trousers and grandma's hairpin were long ago shoved into a tattered duffel bag. Everything was weird. On his body was a tight red party dress that hugged every muscle he had, ending much too high on his legs for comfort. It showed off his protruding bones, as Linda had a while ago commended him for following his diet so rigorously. Whatever that meant. Some suffocating powder and ink was drawn on that made his lips taste mucky. And lastly, the high-heeled shoes that pinched the edges of his toes and prevented them from breathing were miles away from the sandals he'd much prefer wearing. But something told him he wasn't allowed complaining.

In the middle of his thoughts, Gon didn't realize the exchange that took place before him. When a scream of bloody murder echoed in the store, he shot his head up to a terrifying sight. Linda, glasses and all, had her index finger sliced clean off.

The boy stood confused. Until Hisoka smiled and mocked, "do not try to steal from me, when you're so weak."

Just like that, the clown left. Left the bloody mess of a crying woman on the counter. The dressed up boy scrambled to the cupboard to grab a rag and press it against the gash. Linda didn't say anything. Gon wanted to comfort her. But he knew he had to leave soon lest Hisoka return.

So, he said the first thing on his mind. "Witch's Hazel can help heal this wound. It's a plant."

She looked up. Gon tried to smile encouragingly. The boy peered back at his duffel bag that dropped on the floor during the commotion. He had an idea. Grabbing the pile of linen to rummage through it, he slammed 1000 yen on the counter.

"It's your tip." She stared at him, baffled. Gon gave a small wave and left the doors.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

By the time they reached their destination, it was late evening.

There was a beautiful mansion at first sight. White in color with large black gates several football fields away, it took Gon a while to realize this wasn't just a house. It was also a corporation headquarters. Men in suits scurried home with suitcases. All wore faces of quality. They hid their tired states well and talked about looking forward to eating dinner or seeing their children. It was a stark contrast to Hisoka who looked ready to start juggling any second.

But something was off. While some scurried about as normal rich folk, others snuck around in decade-old ties and smelly shoes. Gon had a gut feeling this place was more than it seemed.

He was right. Instead of going through the large revolving doors at the front entrance, the two walked in a path that hugged the building. They ended in a pair of stairs at the side of the property. From the short way down was a steel door. As soon as Hisoka opened it, music blared on full blast into Gon's sensitive ears. He sorely covered them. _What is this place? I don't like it at all!_

Past the flashing lights, it looked more like the type of atmosphere Gon was used to. Women in scantily clad outfits danced about on stage. Some were taken aside by those shadier men he saw outside. They were all drunk, smoking, or sitting in corners eying the show. He watched as one of the blondes, only slightly older than him, followed one of them to a back room. Gon wondered where they were headed. But had to shake his curiosity away to not lose sight of Hisoka, possibly the fastest walker he'd ever met. The soles of his feet were already bruising from the expensive shoes.

"There you are." Gon nearly crashed into Hisoka's back; thank goodness he didn't, when a tall man with long hair stopped them. "You texted me to say you spent all the money. And you didn't even buy one Kurta?"

"Oh, Illumi!" Hisoka put on a mock smile. "Don't worry. I got something even better."

This man, Illumi, shot a look at Gon. One that was returned with a blank face. It was like looking in a mirror. _Strange._ Illumi mused. _Most people would be scared._ "I don't know what you're thinking, but that isn't a Kurta."

"A toy for Killua-kun, perhaps?"

"…toy." He dulled. "Stop fooling around. Kill's already married."

"Oh, you're so boring." Hisoka patted Gon's head. Gon didn't notice. He was too busy inwardly wincing. Wasn't being a bride to someone who was already married really bad? That's what he remembered Mito saying. He twitched when a pin in the dress poked his back. Or could people have two at the same time? No. If that's the case, he would refuse the offer in a heartbeat.

"I don't know why you're not fired." Illumi gave as much of a scoff as he could. In his hands, papers with several faces of girls printed on it rustled. "And this…_kid_ wouldn't entertain him in bed anyway."

"Why don't we see what he thinks first, hmm?" With that, Hisoka grabbed the cross dresser's arm and made to walk off with him. Gon could make out the voice of Illumi muttering something about Hisoka's weird instincts. He was dragged only a few more steps, taken to a door that required a code, and a new type of light blinded him; this time a bright white.

A spotless hallway greeted them. Lion heads and paintings of dragons on the ceiling made Gon gape in awe. _They're amazing!_ He was grinning. But when his gaze fell on the clown, a frown replaced it.

"Excuse me, Hisoka?" Gon wasn't sure if he was allowed to talk. Might as well find out now. "Did you say that Ki-llua…" the name rolled off his tongue, like the sweet that melted in his mouth last night, "was married?"

To his surprise, Hisoka didn't seem bothered at all. "Oh, quite the valiant one, aren't you? And a cutie."

Gon cringed.

"I'll explain since you're so adorable." The clown sang as they passed someone who appeared to be a waiter. The timid man ran off at the sight of them. Hisoka was boundlessly infamous. "This is Zoldyck Enterprise: a top-notch female modeling agency. But that's boring, isn't it? Of course! So they thought 'why not change it up a little?' Unbeknownst to them, the women hired sign themselves over to us. Instead of just boring photo shoots, they are taken to the brothel in the basement to sell their bodies for extra money. Don't they get all the fun? Richer men can even purchase them if they can afford it."

"Isn't that wrong?"

"Bold." Hisoka smirked. "Yes, and illegal. But they're picky. All our girls, whether models or strippers must go through a strict inspection and be approved by the CEO. That would be our little Killua-kun. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

"Then…"

"You're auditioning too, Gon-chan." Hisoka nearly grinned. But when the man turned around, Gon couldn't help but avert his stare to the ground. He thought he would finally be able to get away from that kind of life, pay off Ging's debt in another and more interesting way. But he was just sent from one slave convention and taken to live in another. The stubborn boy had already decided he wouldn't be this Killua person's wife. But whatever happened, could only hope that Killua wouldn't be a man like Chrollo.

Soon Gon found himself alone in a line of girls. His bags of clothes were left in a locker on the ground floor. The sea of blondes and redheads and even pink zigzagged from one side of the building to the other. The girls talked about many things, ranging from those who sincerely inspired to get a job to those clinging at a chance to seduce the CEO. But all were oblivious to what happened downstairs. Most of the women were full and in even more revealing dresses than his, and others looked even younger. But one thing was sure. He doubted any of them were guys.

By the time he reached the front, it was almost midnight. And the line behind him had replenished to full length. "D-Does Killua work all night?" Gon said to himself, almost sad at the thought. He was sure if he just gave a smile and said 'hi' then everything would be alright.

Everything was not alright. Gon found himself wobbling on a black platform minutes later. Spotlights blinding him and with no other instruction other than "show your stuff". And he didn't even understand what that meant. A smudge of gaudy lipstick came off since this morning. He curled an orange strand of hair around his finger, motionless. Now he was stuck, three pairs of tired eyes staring at his lack of doing anything.

Gon wasn't bothered. He was focused on the hair of the person in the middle. The man sat tall in the only high chair in the room and gave off an intimidating aura. He assumed this was Killua. Never had he seen such a thing. It was a soft shade of white and stuck every which way. Despite the distance, he suddenly had the urge to touch and feel if it's real. Real and as soft as it looked. Beneath the mob of cloud, sunglasses adorned almost his entire face. So much that no one could see eyes underneath. It was most likely to cover the blinding lights. But Gon noticed the black and green bruises lining them, and knew right away this person hadn't slept for days.

"Well?" Said person, impatient and snarly, could speak and it would be the scariest thing that most girls had ever heard. But Gon only tilted his head. "Or are you wasting my time?"

_What am I supposed to do?_ Gon knew he was competing with the other girls. There was no way he was losing to them! But what did they want? He recalled gossip in the lobby. Something about seducing being the way to go. Then he saw faint pictures of when he was a small child. Mito would talk one of the fishermen nearby to give her a discount. Then they left Gon alone on the street as she stowed with him into a dark alley. He didn't know what happened but when they returned, it usually worked.

Not this time. A clumsy walk, a flaunt that slightly ridded up his skirt that he didn't even get, and an awkward kiss being blown later, Gon could practically hear the hiss being thrown his way.

"You're _disgusting_!" The shrill voice still managed to boom across the room. "Who taught you that move? A no-good drunk, probably. Just give up. Bring in the next girl!"

A sudden anger flared up. Like fire lit in front of gasoline.

Gon sent one of his darkest glares at those black sunglasses. Not only did he _dislike_ being bettered in a contest, he _hates _when someone insulted his aunt! That was going too far. _Killua isn't nice at all!_

"Let me try again."

"You had your chance. You suck, get over it."

Gon stood, unfazed. "And take back what you said."

"I owe you nothing." The other yawned, disinterested.

"Not _me_." He stomped. A heel broke. "My aunt!"

Killua snarled, now fully awake. One of the men beside him, the one with shorter hair, tried elbowing gently, but his attention was fully on the boy that may have been a little in over his head. "Are you telling me what to do?"

"It isn't about that-!" Gon stopped when, instead of facing white hair and jerk, he was pulled into a backdoor hallway. A hand over his mouth was about the only thing keeping Gon from yelling, but that didn't mean he didn't thrash about. He was about to face the one who grabbed him in annoyance until a bright smile blinded him.

"Hiya!" He blinked. It wasn't a man but a teenager. The teen was probably 16 years old and had ragged hair held down by a headband, a huge contrast to the long smooth one of Illumi. He looked almost feminine. But the large black suit over a kimono told otherwise. "I'm Alluka Zoldyck, Killua's brother. You can call me Alluka-chan."

Taking the outstretched hand, Gon wore a confused look. He recognized him as one of the guys standing next to Killua, but was barely paying attention to them seeing as Killua just…stood out.

This man, teen…definitely a boy giggled. "Sorry about my brother. He's been working for 5 days straight. His shift is almost over before he finally gets a day off. It's just getting to him. I swear he's a great onii-chan! So please don't hate him."

Gon smiled. He liked Alluka. The cross dresser couldn't find the energy to be mad at Killua anymore, not if this sweet younger brother didn't want him to. "Okay, I won't."

Alluka cheered, grabbing the boy's hands in an excited whisper. "So what brings you here?"

"Hehe…," Gon shifted his weight from the broken shoe to the other. He was bad at lying, he knew it. And something about Alluka made it hard to lie to. Nothing left but to tell the truth. Or at least part of it. "Hisoka bought me from a slave farm yesterday. He said he wanted me to be Killua's br-Um, to meet him."

"Huh, really?" Alluka tilted his head. Gon had to take a step sideways to get some of his personal space back. "That's weird. Hisoka-nii's never done something like that before."

He was about to answer when Alluka interrupted. "Then again, Onii-chan's argued before but not like with you. You're strange, miss!"

Then a bright yellow ribbon was shoved in his face. It had random faces drawn on it with marker, this one showing a happy-happy-angry pattern. His chance to observe the unusual object ended when Alluka ran around him and tied it graciously to his wig.

"Don't ever take this off." The knot tightened. "Trust me; it'll protect you from Hisoka-nii."

_Protect me from Hisoka?_ Sure the clown was weird. At times Gon felt uncomfortable at his gaze and knew the man was a pervert. But it didn't look like Hisoka was actually planning to do anything to him. Despite these thoughts, Gon nodded his head.

Alluka stepped back. He grinned, proud of his work. Then the man child skipped back into the audition room, but not before yelling over his shoulder. "Come to room 121B the day after tomorrow at 7am!" And was gone like a light.

"B-Bye." Gon waved back hesitantly. Alluka sure had a lot of energy.

Being around others with energy usually fueled Gon's mood. This time it almost unnerved him. He couldn't pinpoint why. Alluka must've been up just as long as everyone else, yet still greeted and invited him to meet again. He was a great person, and possibly Gon's newly found friend. That means he did something right to get Alluka to talk to him. That meant things might be looking up._ Most of all, that means not everyone around here is going to be blockheads like Killua!_

He stopped when Killua's insults through the beige doors broke though his fantasy. What followed were the distinct sounds of sobbing. Gon blinked. "I wonder why Alluka didn't ask for my name?"

The boy shrugged, opting to find Hisoka then a place to sleep for a while. A small ditch in the yard would suffice. But he didn't want to go anywhere without telling his owner where he was. Thankfully, he didn't have to look long. One corridor of abstract paintings and a hideous vase later, Gon rounded a corner right into someone's side.

"Oh, it's you." Gon thanked every deity there was that it was Illumi he ran into and not Hisoka's readily waiting arms. Said clown was pouting next to Illumi, obviously jealous at the one second contact. "So, I'm guessing you failed?"

He opened his mouth, and then closed it. Immediately the two knew his answer. "A shame. Your instincts were wrong this time, Hisoka."

"A shame indeed. I really thought Killua-kun would be interested, but too bad." Hisoka chuckled. It didn't sound too bad at all. The action sent a shiver down Gon's spine. "However I thought it'd be fun if I could use this cutie as my own little toy if it didn't work out. Looks like things are in my favor this time."

Gon froze. Hisoka did _own_ him. He didn't know when his vision started blurring. _Fear?_

Then, to Gon's unlikely rescue, Illumi droned. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He lifted a pale finger to the wig Gon so desperately wanted to throw in the fire moments before. But now was so glad he didn't. "My brother's up to his games again."

"Aw!" Hisoka looked ready to get on the ground in depression. "So you belong to Alluka-kun."

"You know not to meddle with Alluka's affairs. Just leave this kid be."

Gon was surprised when the man who seemed to do everything he wanted simply nodded. Then the two adults left. Wow, this ribbon really did protect him. He didn't recall being owned by anyone did that before. Perhaps Alluka was going around helping the girls who got mixed up in this industry like him?

Without warning, Gon grinned. He could feel an adventure coming up!

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The next day brought boredom.

Gon had indeed found a ditch behind the garage to curl into. Too tired to do much else, he collapsed wearing the annoying red dress and high heel shoes. It smelled a lot nicer than the ditches at his old home. It wasn't until morning when he woke to hundreds of ants crawling around his legs and hair. He had accidentally lain right on top of an ant hill, which meant he had to find another spot. The naturalist apologized to the little insects before silently thanking them for ruining the dress.

His legs scurried quickly to his locker; a teal box located in the back room of the brothel, and grabbed a much more comfortable white summer dress with red ribbons. Figures he only had girly clothes to wear now.

It was when his hand was in the duffel bag that a familiar crinkle stopped him in his tracks. He pulled out a dirty piece of paper that spelled '100 yen' in worn out letters. The bill was stuck in the back behind his old rotting clothes. And Gon realized he must've accidentally given Linda 900 yen instead of his promised 1000. He shoved the money into the pocket of the white dress, just in case.

By afternoon, the boy took a dip in a nearby lake no one else seemed to notice. After his bath, he made sure to throw the red dress into the garbage while letting out a cheer. A scruffy homeless man behind him scrambled to the box as soon as the boy turned his back. _Oops. I should've just given it to the man to begin with._ The rest of the day was spent exploring. He wasn't allowed to go any higher than the second floor of the fifteen floor mansion. And the extravagant paintings of farm girls and flowers got dull after a while.

Soon enough it was evening. The only remotely interesting thing Gon discovered was a café on the ground floor where he spent hours staring out at those car things. Red, black, silver, even green and pink. When that ran dry, he focused on the people littering the sidewalk talking about their day. No one bothered him. The boy currently sat by himself in a window seat. Wig and contacts long taken off, his wild hair curled messily around grandma's pin. He looked like a lost little girl waiting for her parents.

Just as Gon noticed a man embarrassingly crawling out of his new girlfriend's pink ladybug, his stomach growled. Aside from that delicious chocolate, he hadn't eaten for nearly four days. "Ugh! Food, that's right! I completely forgot."

He looked around. Near the entrance, there was a black box he'd been eyeing for a while. It looked every bit like a box except the clear glass window that adorned one side, revealing several snacks in plastic wrapping. Gon got up and ran to the machine, curious. He wasn't sure what a pizza or muffin was. They looked delicious but were worth far more than his measly 100 yen. Luckily, the only thing he could afford was what he wanted most.

"Cho-colate." Gon repeated. Exactly 100 yen. "Yes!"

He slipped the bill in the slot under the arrow and pushed a few buttons. Then, the treat fell into the base. "Wow…that's so cool!"

Just as his small hand made to open the machine and retrieve the prize, a different much more ridged one got to it first. The door in the box snapped shut with a '_pop!_' In shock, Gon watched as a ragged lady made off with his chocolate out into the halls. His legs remained glued to the floor but it didn't last long.

"Hey!" Gon yelled when he came to his senses. He ran after. The new white sandals he wore hit the ground in quick strides, making clank sounds against tile. This soon turned into soft taps when he found himself out in the night air, still after the thief who was running in the direction of the woods. With his keen sight focused on the woman under the pitch black canopy, he spotted something he didn't expect to see. Yellow. Tied to an old scarf and ripped nearly to shreds. "Is that…one of Alluka's ribbons?"

The boy squinted, trying to get a better look. Nothing could break his focus. Unfortunately this focus caused him not to see someone who ran from behind a tree right in front of him. Then, they crashed. It happened in under a second. They flew through the air and landed in the mud. Now both lay awkwardly on the mushy grass.

"ACK, what the heck!" A childish cry came beneath him.

"Ow ow ow, I'm sorry!" Gon jumped away from who he landed on, holding his head. It banged against a rock on the ground but it didn't look injured. His eyes shut tight and checking for a bump, he didn't remember why he was running so fast until seconds later. They shot open. "Oh no!"

"…What's wrong with you?" He realized the one he crashed into didn't just leave him, for whatever reason. "You'll be fine."

"W-Where did she go?" The boy stood, turning frantically and hoping to catch sight of the woman through the darkness. It was funny, really. To an outsider it looked like he was doing some interpretive dance. "She stole my chocolate!"

"WHAT?!" Gon flinched at the outburst. He didn't expect them to react that way. Then, gasped when the one who yelled grabbed his shoulders and roughly turned them so they were face to face.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the bluest eyes he had ever seen. And he froze, like a deer in headlights. His limbs stiffened, arms animated in the air stayed there, and he couldn't look away. The moment was mutual. The one who grabbed him, a boy no older than 19 years old, looked ready to shout something, but stopped when they met eyes.

"…"

_Too c-close!_

The older of the two broke eye contact first, awkwardly stepping away. He _really_ had to kick his habit of freaking out when it came to chocolate. A pale finger scratched his cheek in embarrassment. But Gon remained stock still. It wasn't just the eyes, no. The sunglasses were off, dark circles under eyelids gone, and now Gon could see that in height he only reached the other's shoulder. But his focus was on something else. He could recognize that mess of white hair anywhere. He wouldn't be surprised if no one else in the world possessed it.

That familiar flint of anger ignited.

Against all odds, Gon managed to keep his mouth shut. His arms met his sides, a sign of calming down, just in time for Killua to turn back. His blue irises glued to the tree behind Gon. Trying to think of something to diverge from that strange moment. "So which way did she go?"

Then, panic. "That's right, I forgot!" She was much too far away to spot by now, even with his precise sight. _But…what about something else?_ Gon stood on his tippy-toes, sniffing the air. He recalled back in the café a wet cotton smell, like boots hours after a winter day when they didn't dry properly. That must've been the woman!

Gon was determined to get that delicious sweet back.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Killua stared. By now the cute girl was crouched on the floor like…_like a dog_, and he didn't find it repulsive at all; didn't feel for one second like running for the hills. It was just weird. Everything was.

"Aha, got it." He stepped back when she ran off excited to find her chocolate. Off to some adventure that sounded twenty, no, fifty times more fun than anything he did all day. Off and left him behind without even saying good bye.

For the first time in his life, Killua Zoldyck was being ignored. By a girl.

He shouldn't have cared. Probably, no. Definitely, right?

"Hey, wait up!"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Why are you coming?" Gon didn't mean for it to sound stingy. The optimist wasn't one to hold grudges, but he wasn't exactly Killua's number one fan. He could only hope Killua didn't notice.

He did. "It sounds like fun."

"Oh." Their climb was descending further and further into a downward slope. It ended by a swamp hidden behind vines which they crossed by balancing on old logs. With the combination of speed and branches flocking their way, mud flew up and about. It was the first time Gon had seen someone who was in a suit, now adorning nothing but a hoodie and sweatpants, get so dirty before. Neither complained.

Soon enough grass morphed with cement in a strange arc near the bottom of the trench. Railings, nearly fallen apart, stood in the way. Polluted water flowed through. It gave off a stench that forced Gon to wrinkle his nose. He lost the scent because of it. Luckily as the two closed the distance to the opening, that was when he spotted that familiar ribbon waving in the distance.

He was about to run in, when Killua grabbed his arm.

"Wait," his hood was up, hair concealed, "breathe through your mouth."

Gon wanted to protest but the woman's shape began fading in shadows. The stubborn boy nodded. He counted on his nose a lot. Yet his instincts told him to trust Killua.

The dark tunnel zigzagged and forked left and right beneath the ground. The floor was completely submerged in swamp water. They were forced to run on a raised road attached to the sides. It was like those holes animals in the forest dug when Gon visited them on afternoons he had off. But these were hard and even smellier. It must've been what humans here used. Killua called them the 'sewers'.

The several way walk opened into a cliff. Metal railings hung on the sides but looked ready to fall backwards at the slightest touch. There, the lady stood terrified at being caught. She was tall but skinny for her height, bones bulging out much more noticeably than Gon's, lips cracked and eyes lifeless.

Gon paused from the adrenaline. He hadn't had a chance to think about it until now. Now the whole situation sunk in. Maybe he should just let the woman have the chocolate? Gon opened his mouth.

"There's nowhere to run now."

Killua stepped in. Somehow at his voice, she shook harder in fear. "You're in Alluka's division, aren't you? You _belong_ to them. Don't you know she doesn't tolerate stealing?"

As Killua got closer, the cold blue of his eyes revealed themselves to the petrified lady. They almost glowed in the dark. Identifying her every feature. And she realized who he was. Her knees gave out, hitting the cement so hard they broke. The ligaments of her legs drew blood while skin remained unscratched, turning it a sickly blue color. Gon thought that was it. But then Killua seized her long brown hair. Sharp fingers pulled so hard blood flowed from the roots. "You should be punished."

"Y-You monster!" She shrieked. "You're nothing but a spoiled lecherous lying dolt who feeds off of his father's money! Let all the girls go, let my daughter go! But first, give us food!"

"Am I?" Killua threw her against a wall. Her struggling made the sharp rocks grind against her broken ribs.

She cried harder. Next moment, and the half-eaten and melted clump of brown was thrown on the floor before Gon's feet. Gon jolted. "Sorry! There, I gave it back! I won't ever do it again-"

"So I'm the lying dolt?" He sighed, nails drawing red lines on her neck. "You demand me to give you food but cower away not a second later. You say sorry but only when your life depends on it. You say you'll give it back but only after you've ruined and destroyed it. Then you say you won't ever do it again but what you mean is you won't ever get caught again. You're just as sick as me. Am I right?"

Silence. "I think a few more bruises are needed."

"**STOP IT.**" Killua gasped. He nearly fell straight to the ground when two strong hands shoved his menacing figure back. He caught himself in time. But was met with the sight of Gon, carefully placing the crying woman on the floor. She opened her wet eyes to the gentle stare. "It's alright! Don't worry about it."

Killua could only watch when she cried more, clutching onto the small girl like a wet ragdoll. He watched as Gon crawled to the discarded chocolate, offering it to her on the excuse that she needed it more. And, watch his own self facing Gon's glaring honey-brown eyes; the same ones he thought were beautiful just a while ago.

"How could you do that, to someone you've never met?"

Killua was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You don't even know if that's how she's really like!" Gon exploded blindly. With Chrollo and his gang, he never questioned what they did. They were just those types of people. The types he despised. And left it at that. But Killua...he didn't know Killua that well either. Something kept Gon from just accepting it; accepting Killua as 'one of those people'. He didn't know what but it made him really mad. "She already apologized. You don't know anything about her family or friends and you can just do all of that without taking responsibility?!"

"Y-You…" _are absolutely crazy._ Killua was about to say, but shut his mouth.

It was true.

And it baffled him that it's the first time he noticed it.

Girls never stood up to him; at least not the ones who weren't selfish, lacing with fear, or just plain doing it to get him in bed. They seemed to have ideas of reverse psychology stuck in their head. Not this time. This one…he didn't even know her name, seemed to honestly and truly hate him. For what he did to _someone else_.

While they were both trapped in the stare down, neither noticed a slight movement behind them. It was a minor twitch. A gasp of air to prepare herself, and the once bloodied and broken woman flung herself over the railing. No screaming; only the sounds of the hinges breaking finally caught Gon and Killua's attention.

They both ran to the ledge without thinking. A sickening crunch resonated, followed by the splash of water moving the corpse away. And they both knew it was the sound of bones hitting concrete. Blood splattered every direction from where her body had scrapped the wall while falling down. She had chosen immediate death; taken the opportunity Gon gave her to escape Killua's merciless eyes.

Gon stared. He held an illegible look; one born from mourning and shock. A minute passed. No one moved. Then a thought crossed him. Shoulders deflated, eyes drooped. "Was it my fault she died? I chased her and just now-"

"N-No." The utter expression on the boy's face left Killua speechless. Left him confused on what to say. But past all the uncertainty, he could answer that one question with absolute clarity. "No."

Tap. "Yeah, I heard it over here!"

"So people still trespass, huh?"

The two teens flinched at the rash voices. A few meters away, coming from both sides of the tunnel, several footsteps rounding the corner, and they knew they had to run or hide somewhere, quick. But, the problem was, there _wasn't_ anywhere to go.

Gon frantically looked around them. The walls were too smooth for him to climb up or down. The tight space left no cracks or corners to hide in. Plus it was impossible for his bright white and now dirtied dress to blend into the mud and rocks below them. Jumping, as the woman had just demonstrated, was a definite suicide. As powerful Killua as was, he was also despised; unwelcomed here.

"This is where it was." The voices neared. On the ledge, he saw a glimmer of hope. Only half the railings had rotted off. The other spots, sturdy and metallic, latched onto the cliff. Maybe they could both jump to the other side and hold on? Their clenched hands could be hidden by the rocks around them. There certainly was a lot around them. It was perfect!

The black-haired boy beamed. "Hey, we c-"

"What the…What are you two doing there?!"

Then paled. _Oh no. It's too late._

Something extraordinary happened then. In Gon's next turmoil to think of a way out, Killua grabbed his dirty shoulders, leaned down, and landed a wet kiss right on his lips.

Gon stopped. The crowd of ten people stopped, flashlight pointed to the two teens in the corner standing abundantly close. But that wasn't good enough. The spikey-haired boy squirmed from underneath. It only resulted in Killua backing him into a wall, pressing harder. He deepened the kiss to make it more believable, deepened the heat between them until Gon nearly choked. Only to have a hand block his nose.

"Hold your breath." Killua whispered.

"L-Let go-" He heaved but was silenced by Killua's mouth over his, cutting his breaths short. He felt the other nibbling on his upper lip. Sending static down both their spines with each bite. Gon's own arm responded without consent. His fingers tangled into Killua's hair to bring their bodies closer. It _was_ as soft as it looked. Soon the boy felt near fainting. But not from the lack of air.

_Wh-What's going on?_

"Ack, let's just leave 'em." Over the loud buzzing in Gon's ears, he heard one of the men whistle. "They're so into it they didn't even notice us. Probably looking for a place for the night to get knocked up. The poisonous gas will have them killed by morning."

The others agreed. The things Gon would notice despite being cornered. They all wore one of Alluka's ribbons on their neck, arm, belt, or some other clothing they had. That strange acessory didn't register until a full thirty seconds later when Killua finally let him go. They both gasped for air, dazed.

"Uh…" Killua swallowed, looking away. He could only thank the dark for hiding the maroon dominating his face. Gon's blank stare made him nervous. That added to the embarrassment and he felt like a bumbling mess. It was so…out of character. "Wow."

"…"

"Y-You want to do that again-"

_SLAM!_

Now it may have been logical to think Killua was slapped. But Gon had actually landed a solid punch right into his stomach. One that sent the taller teen flying ten feet and into the ground. Gon wasn't sure why he did it. Other than Killua being a complete jerk. His reflexes worked with his instincts and punching him just felt right. Punching him at half strength so he didn't murder the man, not so much.

Surprisingly, Killua easily sat up. Nothing to show but a hand on his stomach in pain. Most men, twice his size would be bed ridden for several days after a hit like that. "Ouch. You really know how to land a punch. I could tell you were holding back too." He smirked, but Gon walked past him to the exit.

"H-Hey!" Killua ran after. He caught up to Gon, blocking his path. A knowing smirk and deep crystal eyes, it was a look that usually had ladies swooning. He was certain it would work. But Gon stepped aside.

Killua tried again, this time crouched and widening his lids to give a cute kitty impression. But the white-haired boy only deflated when Gon walked right around him. Not even batting an eye. Killua Zoldyck was definitely being ignored.

"What's your name?" He blurted. Ignore.

"Fine, so you don't like me very much." Killua halted in his attempt to flirt, but he really did want to know this girl's name. "Why?"

"I don't know. I just don't." The boss was ecstatic that he wasn't going to be ignored forever, but drooped at the answer. His stare redirected to the ground. How was he supposed to work with that?

"Well, uh…if it helps, you're different from other girls around here. Really different."

"I think we're going the wrong way." Killua looked up, confused. He thought Gon was talking about them until he saw the unusual girl switch between forked paths a few steps ahead. Wait. Which way did they come from again? It was rare when the CEO would venture down the sewers, despite what this certain one was used for.

"I know! I'll just use my nose to track where we ran from!"

"NO!" Killua made a grab for Gon's nose but was bitten. "Ow!"

"Why can't I?" It was obvious he didn't want Killua touching him anytime soon.

Killua sighed. "You know that poisonous gas stuff they were talking about? I can't tell you why. But these tunnels are filled with it. The poison is triggered by your sense of smell. It's a cheap and effective way to kill off anyone who isn't supposed to be here while keeping the ones that are, immune. There's no known cure either."

Gon averted his eyes to the ceiling. That sounded familiar. Chrollo was renowned for his boundless knowledge and collection. He had countless poisons that he used for security. But there was one thing he didn't know. "Yes, there is."

"If you say so." He raised a brow. "The point is you can't use your sniffing powers to get us out of here."

"Oh, right." From there, Killua watched as the dirty, wet, and tired boy lowered his gaze to the ground. He played with the edge of his skirt, picking rocks out of each line of lace. As if troubled by something. _What's she so depressed about?_

Then, to his surprise, "I…Thanks. I'm sorry for biting you."

"No problem." Killua smiled.

Through a short game of rock-paper-scissors, they ended up taking the left path after Gon won. Honestly, he had just chosen a random direction. Neither were sure anymore as the path winded in ninety degree angles, plunging deeper and deeper into the ground. By the time stairs ended midair into one lateral pipe and no sidewalk was in sight, Killua opted to go back.

Gon's exposed toes were already covered in green mush. He didn't want to admit defeat nor did he want to be ripping through knee-deep murky water. Thankfully it wasn't a stench ridden brown. And when they turned around, only to have the stairs beneath them collapse, the gratefulness increased tenfold.

A startled yelp, flailing arms, and falling metal resonated. When the noise cleared, a hooded head popped out of the water first.

"You okay?" Killua yelled when the shower cleared. He had gotten a cut on the side of his hand but nothing else. Just as he was ready to dive in and search for the disappeared girl, Gon emerged out of the water. A stray piece of steel nearly impaled his shoulder, banging into his arm instead. It caused the wound from Chrollo's knife to reopen. Red stained the collar of his dress and water around them.

"Damn!" The blue-eyed boy cursed, running over to him. But Gon backed away. One step forward, two steps back. "Come on. Let me see. I won't do anything!"

Gon shook his head.

Killua groaned; hiding the small pang of hurt he felt close to his chest. _What does she want? I don't get it!_ He would've kicked a pebble through the wall if there were any around. "Everything's just going wrong today."

And just as the CEO was getting ready to yell that things couldn't possibly get worse, like a cartoon, they did.

"I hear something." Gon's sensitive ears perked. With one arm over the wound and another against the wall, he wobbled forward. Killua didn't register what he said, lifting the front of his wet hoodie to reveal a pristine white dress shirt underneath. His magazine cover hands ripped a large piece of it off.

"You don't want me near, but at least use this."

Gon obeyed, taking the white cloth, folding it thrice to tie around his collar tightly and stop the bleeding. It felt soft. He bet it would give off the scent of Killua's cologne if he could smell it. Gon shook his head to rid of those thoughts. "Seriously, there's something coming."

Killua could hear it now too. A gradual roaring and booming. Then the ground beneath them shook. The ripples of water hit the edge in ugly intermissions. The two could only gap when a giant twister of water came their way. It filled every arc of the tunnel. It moved at a rate too fast to ever outrun. And it was headed straight for them.

"R-RUN!" It was all they could shout before it hit them head on.

Gon opened one eye. Then closed it. Wherever this river was flowing would undoubtedly lead outside. The boy could hold his breath over 9 minutes, and the distance they walked to get in versus the speed of the typhoon wouldn't last that long. But that wasn't the hard part.

The water wiped against every part of his body. It forced his eyelids shut to protect them. The waves pressured the open shoulder wound to sting even worse. The only thing keeping it from outright bleeding into the whirlpool was Killua's shirt.

He tensed. _That's right. Killua!_

There was no way Killua could hold his breath that long. Gon commanded his eye to open once more. He spotted a purple hoodie for that split second. Then, forced both eyes ajar for a full five, wadding towards and clinging onto what he thought was Killua's arm. The body was limp. According to his mental clock, they had been submerged for about 3 minutes. By now the white-haired boy was unconscious. It was lucky they hadn't drifted too far from each other.

Drowning was not a far off topic for Gon. He had heard from the other slaves that the average person dies after seven minutes under water. That's why many prisons kept them submerged for just a little over five as punishment. He silently prayed that they were close to the exit.

He inwardly sighed in relief when the water started bubbling not a minute later. They were few but grew in number and size. Gon let in a triumphant breath when he and the motionless body were flung into the starry night sky. They landed in a lake on the edge of town. Not wasting a second, Gon swam up to the surface and towards the closest patch of land, lying Killua's waterlogged figure on the grass.

The amount of water jutting out the man's nose, mouth, and eyes was sickly alarming.

"K-Killua…" Gon wasn't sure how to feel. But his small hands pumped rigorously on the other's chest, never stopping. They didn't flinch at the mosquito that flew by, biting harshly on his drying arm, didn't cease to the sounds of the street nearly a mile away.

He just knew not to stop. "Please be alright."

Not until Killua sprung a few centimeters up, coughing the last bit of green liquid from his throat. Blue eyes were bloodshot and tired. He choked several times, breathless and frail. The sound began calming down only after Gon gave him a few rough thuds on the back. Then, he was lain down.

Through the setting moon and faint fireflies around them, Killua weakly opened an eye.

"Y-You…saved me…?" And lost consciousness.

Gon panicked until he heard soft snores and equal breathing. Killua had just fainted, from exhaustion probably. He let out his first breath in the past minute. Collapsing on the grass too, the boy yawned. But the sunrise in the horizon told him the time. They had stayed up the whole night. "Urk, it's almost 6am…have to meet Alluka." But he couldn't just leave the drenched body in the cold.

Half-asleep himself, Gon lifted Killua onto his back. For a second he marveled how light the other was. Before sprinting towards the familiar white mansion. They hadn't landed too far from the building so he managed to make it after half an hour of running. By then Gon's stomach was rumbling, legs nearly giving out, and he was ready to fall asleep any moment. Killua, with hood still up to hide his mop of hair, was dropped on a chair in the café. The nearly empty room emitted air conditioning which was leagues better.

As with everything in this world, no one paid the two any attention. Unaware of whom this nearly drowned and dirty teen was. It was funny to think what the CEO of this place had gone through. And Gon just had to drag him around on his day off. Now both their bodies were feeling the effects. It made him feel guilty for the slightest second.

Against his earlier anger, he let out an apologetic smile.

_Don't worry, Killua. I doubt you will ever talk to me again._

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Haha, there you are!"

Gon let out a sleepy smile. It looked pathetic next to Alluka's beaming one, especially in the beautiful pink and purple kimono he wore. Luckily the long-haired teen didn't notice. Instead his navy eyes went straight to something else.

"Why are your clothes so dirty?" It wasn't hard to figure out. Gon only had time to wash his face, reapply the curly wig and contacts, and switch to sleek black boots before 7am struck the clocks. He thought Alluka would be cross, but the bouncy boy simply shrugged it off. "Oh well. You can take a shower and I'll get you some new ones, okay? They're uh…they're this way!"

He felt too tried to struggle from Alluka's grip, letting the other drag him across the second floor like a toy. Gon didn't mind being covered in filth but he wasn't complaining to getting a nice clean shower. They were rare and far in between back in camp. That relief turned into bewilderment when they skipped down golden stairs at the back of the building. Soon early morning air met his skin. "Alluka-chan, are we going the right way?"

"Huh? Going where?"

Gon scratched his head, confused. "I don't think there are any showers here."

"Showers?" They stopped. "Why would we be going to the showers?"

"Um…you said that I could take one."

"Oh." Alluka stared blank for a few seconds. Before bringing a fist down to his own head. Gon jumped back in shock. "Ugh! It happened again!"

"W-What happened again?"

"I'm sorry!" He sang, now pulling on his hair in frustration. The sad face on the bright yellow headband somehow copied his actions. "It's annoying, I know. I suffer from short term memory loss."

Gon stared, bringing an arm up to signal Alluka to stop torturing himself. "Short term memory loss?"

"People say it's troublesome and hate me, but please don't hate me! It's not troublesome at all, right?"

"It is." Alluka froze. Tears gone, he shot his head up to Gon's sincere eyes. "Of course it's troublesome. And annoying. But I think the people who stick with you despite it are the only ones worth keeping around."

The next moments were silent. Nothing but intent staring. So much so that it took Gon until the distance between them was halved to notice that Alluka had moved at all. He tried to step back but his heel hit the railing. Without warning, he was nose to nose with the slightly taller man; the ridges of the other's hair tangling with his. Dark navy eyes stared. Alluka's breaths hitting his face. And the world seemed to slow into an aching snail's pace.

It made him feel nauseous, almost like the sensation he'd get before hurling.

Then, Alluka backed off. A grin was plastered on his face. "You're really cute, miss."

"I think I'm going to call you Sweetheart-chan!"

Gon sighed, relieved. One brother wasn't as forceful as the other and for that, he was thankful. He didn't want to punch Alluka in the gut. He regarded Alluka jumping down the rest of the steps, singing a jingle he didn't recognize. His legs hesitantly followed. They fast walked across the growing weeds on the now bright day. It was as if nothing happened.

_He probably forgot it even did. _Gon shrugged.

"Mister, come over here a second!" The boy looked up to Alluka calling over a tall old man from beside the gates. Bowtie in place and worn out face, he seemed to be an honest working citizen. And one of Alluka's personal servants.

"Yes, Master?"

Alluka brought out a gun. "Die for me?"

It was over before Gon could react. Smoking rifle concealed into the sleeve of his kimono, Alluka beamed.

"He wasn't worth keeping around. Right, Sweetheart?"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

**Fear the long. **

**I apologize for how late and torturous it probably was to read this. And yes, every chapter will be pretty draggy but maybe not as long as the first one.**


	8. I've Found You II

**Story 3: I've Found You Part II**

The overgrowth of trees became steadily broader as the sunrise sacrificed itself to high morning. Through the horizon, Gon could make out the blue line of the lake he had bathed in the day before, now littered with half-naked men and woman of many ages whom had no doubt been there since dawn, savoring their last moments. Before what, he wasn't sure.

With his sharp eyes he could see bright yellow ribbons everywhere; tied to branches, in their hair. It was a miracle he didn't notice them last night even while distracted. Alluka's bobbing head in front stopped, Gon was forced to stop as well.

The taller man looked back as if to check if he had run away, sending a smile when he saw that he didn't. Gon went silent when Alluka opted to grab his hand in what seemed like an affectionate gesture. He didn't want to say it but Alluka unnerved him. They were like a couple, cutting through a forest that winded down into a familiar arc that had Gon's eyes widened in shock.

Past the fallen trees and over the fence, they were in the sewer again.

Memories of what happened just an hour ago flooded. He was too hungry and tired to be pushed into a tidal wave again. After motioning Gon to breathe through his nose, Alluka led him in what he thought were random directions through the dark tunnel. Left, left, right, middle, down the stairs, and right again; which he soon discovered was according to some kind of memorized map in the other's head. They came to a room. Eight stories with many tunnels branching towards it, Gon realized that this was probably the center of it all.

Screams of babies reached them. He covered his ears, opened his eyes to a dump of people. A woman with maybe twenty infants around her, men over their prime smoking leaves as money couldn't get them proper drugs, girls with an ear too big, their nose too high, or feet too large to be qualified out there were in here. The two of them had emerged from the cave on the seventh floor. He was so fixated on it all that he didn't notice that Alluka had let go of his hand, had stepped up on the highest balcony to ring a kitty bell with a giant red bow tied to it.

"Everyone, quiet please!" He sang. It was like a pin dropped; from cacophonous to the trained art of silence. Gon watched some shake, others staining their pants a mucky orange color. "It's time to bring the wall down. We're going to play a game again, yay!"

Men, the same ones who were lying half dead in the corner a minute ago, bolted up. Curtains fell to divide the room below the fourth story in half. Gon stared, amazed as Alluka pointed at random people in the group gathering on the sides. They were split into teams A and B. Those not chosen dare not let out a sigh of relief and scrambled to the balconies on the fourth level, all of it coming together like the ant hills he'd observe at home.

"It's not as brilliant as you think."

Gon turned. A boy, about half a head shorter than him, had snuck up beside him in a blue kimono. He was about the only person in the whole room who didn't wear bright yellow somewhere on his body. The fake red head recognized him as the second man who was beside Killua when they met the first time. Unlike the other siblings, his locks were clipped short. Gon tilted his head.

"Kalluto Zoldyck." Gon nodded in acknowledgement. Kalluto seemed the silent type, not to say any more than needed, but unluckily for the both of them, Gon was the exact opposite. He was halfway through opening his mouth to introduce himself when surprisingly, the other talked first. "I apologize for being late. I was tending to _something_."

Brown eyes widened when he heard the mute boy. The line sounded monotone at first glance. He nodded his head, but actually Kalluto seemed…troubled? It was then he noticed a wet stain on the shoulder of Kalluto's clothes. Gon didn't want to ask about Killua, as curious as he was if the boss was okay, and raise suspicion. In the end, he chose not to ask.

"What are they going to play?" He tried instead.

Members of each team picked what seemed to Gon to be random spots on their designated side to stand on, not daring to move a muscle. With the black curtain in between and clipped to the ground, the teams could not see each other.

"Battleship."

He'd never heard of it. "Battle…ship-?"

"G-G-G 18!" One of the women yelled. Sweat licked off her face, her feet shook, and on the other side, just a way away from her, the floor opened. Right next to an 8 year old girl, fire shot up in the air. One ember nicked her neck. It sent blood to the floor but she held her cries in. "I-I'm so sorry, Maya…"

The girl was her daughter.

"Aw, you missed." Alluka pouted from his spot. "Oh well. Try again!"

The woman fell to her knees. Gon noted from her protruding belly that she was pregnant. "But I-I just called one!"

From his spot on the platform, Alluka whined. "AGAIN."

"Pl-please, no more!"

"_Alluka-chan is not having fun._" Gon wasn't sure what happened but, Alluka licked his lips once, the room grew steel cold, he blinked, and suddenly he was beside the crying woman, as if some teleporting monster. His eyes danced around the room, wondering how it happened. The woman gasped, struggled to her feet, tried to run away, but was grabbed by the hair. Alluka grinned. The little girl on the other side screamed. Gon had enough.

"Stop-" A gun was held to his temple.

"Don't…" Kalluto breathed. "Don't bother. You'll live longer."

He was about to protest, about to knock the gun away somehow, but it was too late. Alluka threw the woman's body into the closest wall. Pointed edges scrapped against her ribs, stomach imploded. She spat out blood, more than usual, no doubt coming from the second life inside her giving a last cry, and begged, "n-no, my baby. I'm sorry…!" Then she fell, body still.

Gon felt like throwing up. It was a method he'd seen before. The same technique and that look of bored satisfaction; they were all imitated by Alluka, copied from a certain white-haired older brother.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Kalluto snapped him out of his reverie. It was as if the boy was speaking from a script handed to him at the last second; one that he was never told to love or hate. "Let me explain. You're one of the million who belong to Alluka. You live to entertain. Do not ever go against his wishes or you'll be no use to him anymore."

Said man, seemingly in a bad mood, stomped up to his balcony on the eighth floor. The others watching all fell to a crouched position, uttering apologies for the miss's horrible behavior. It was neither a mess of voices piercing the air nor desperate cries, but rather a practiced chant, a sick harmony of instruments coming together. Alluka rang the bell at the first opportunity while muttering something about having enough of these slaves for today.

"That bell signifies the beginning and end of Alluka's playtime. You had no part in today's session since it's your first day. That's the observation period." Gon had a question. He wanted to turn, to yell but remembered the gun was still pressed against his back. The muzzle was so sharp it hung to his bones. He was in this situation many times before and knew this meant he wasn't allowed to speak.

"You start tomorrow."

It was then Gon realized why no one asked for his name.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

A blonde came this time.

Luscious curls cascaded over a naked back. Her white dress flew with black lingerie underneath; she sauntered with a grace unrivalled by any. This woman was claimed to be one of the top by other workers, picked through a rigorous selection to represent The Zoldycks at a local shooting. She slid off the stage, making sure that the lone watcher could see her panties, before making off behind the curtains for the next candidate.

Killua blinked. Looking over her resume, he marked a giant red ex in the corner. The next girl was the last of them. With a bad bump in her step, unseen errors hidden away in her poses, she was set to fail from the beginning. The only redeeming factor was her perfect face. That only earned her half points.

A whole group of up and coming models visited that day, yet by the end, only two were accepted as "barely passable". The experience crushed many of the young girls' dreams. It wasn't farfetched to say that this evaluation was just too impossible.

Then again, it wasn't like Killua was in the best of moods.

He had started out that morning, late and in his bed on the fifteenth floor, somehow already lethargic despite having only woken up. With time to neither bathe nor even brush his teeth and change out of his hoodie, he was booted into his office as soon as feet touched the ground. Papers piled. Missed calls nagged him. The mess was there. All of it accumulated from his break of a mere 18 hours.

No comprehension was present at first. It was easier not to divert his attention to anything but business. Memories of last night didn't hit, drown him in disbelief, until one of the waiters brought him a hot chocolate with honey.

He stared.

Swirls answered back. The taste soothed his stiff muscles. The color made him gasp. Killua dropped the clay mug all over his work. It smashed in two. One end sliced his pinky finger. He cursed, brought it under a tap, and bandaged it. As Killua was sitting back down, observing the job, a realization shot him in the gut.

The cut on his hand from last night was clean. The bruise she had given him felt fine and he had woken in his own bed, not by the lakeside with that enticing smile and brown eyes watching over him as he slept. Sun reaching high noon, chocolate spreading over his table top like an epidemic, and all he could do was stare at his broken coat rack.

It was all a dream.

A disgusting, immature, monstrous, dirty dream that mocked his life by creating someone who didn't exist to fill one of the growing voids he felt as the years went on. Was it so humorous…laughable even his subconscious was making fun of him?

Killua couldn't control himself. He threw the nearest lamp against the marble floor. It shattered, just like his feelings. No one ever cared about them anyway. One of the maids ran in to see if he was alright but all he did was look at her blankly and tell her to clean the mess.

The rest of the day seemed colder, quieter, made him want to lock himself away somewhere, but he had a job. It only made sense to forget it all and go on with his life as it was before. Let the hole grow until he became as empty as his older brother.

It was early evening now. Killua was looking forward to getting his first food break when the girl left the stage, only to be gestured back down when one of their scheduled groups of women arrived early. He watched. He pretended to be engaged in the show, but all he saw, all he wished, was that one of them at least was a bit shorter, maybe adorning messy black hair and cute brown eyes. She would smile and wave at him, even punch him in the stomach again. It never happened.

_Fuck it all._ It was just a stupid crush. He tried to distract himself by checking his personal cell phone: bad idea. It was swamped with invoices from Corey and the doctor. The first five from the former started out explicit, even sexual, he could tell she was lonely last night, but the tone soon wore off. In between the fifth and sixth she became needy, accusing him of cheating, he supposed if making out with his imagination counted, then he technically did, even lying about being pregnant for the umpteenth time. The ones from the latter were no better.

They were never answered on his days off, but somehow, hearing them, the screeching voice, and the words, made him miss those honey brown eyes more. Killua slammed the phone. He nearly screamed. With every grain of his fiber, he managed to hold it in. Instead, tired legs stood. Killua marched right out of the room in the middle of the performance.

"Um, sir?! Where are you headed?" A short and chubby man in a tie called out. He was the manager of these girls and knew of this company's strict influence in the business.

"Break, _now_." Killua slammed the door.

The first thing he wanted to do, actually, was take a nice shower and lie down. Anything to get away from those scantily clad girls and overweight men with money seething out of their ears. Killua trekked into his room, not bothering to take the elevator for the two story climb. If he did, he would undoubtedly be stopped for another favor.

His room wasn't as big as most people thought. When he was younger, his little brothers would complain that a larger room meant it was easier to lose things and harder to find them so chose this one for him. He grabbed a clean dress shirt and pants. That meant only a tie was needed when he had to go back to work; simple and easy. But when Killua stood in front of the mirror to hoist his hoodie off, something caught him off guard. He stopped.

A frail hand lifted. It fingered his shirt underneath, bottom half ripped off just as he remembered doing for_ Love_ in his faint memories. It was unlike him. But that's what he decided to call her, since she refused to give him a name. She'd probably kick him for that. To the right, he saw the fading marks of a recovering bruise. For some reason it didn't hurt at all but was still there.

Killua stood under those mirror lights for what felt like an hour. His fingers, palm, even wrist traced the two pieces of evidence with a delicate touch. It was as if to make sure they were real, really there. One light bulb flickered out. Then, he smiled.

The shower that followed put his mind in a state of ease. He stayed ten minutes longer than usual and jumped out when it was over. In contrast, he dressed quickly keeping the tattered shirt from last night just in case. He was just overreacting, he knew it. It could've ripped any time. It didn't mean anything.

Despite that, Killua face planted on his bed, falling asleep for the first time with a smile on his face.

He woke a half hour later to his ringtone. Grumbling, at first he thought it was his wife again, but was forced to blink the drossiness out of his eyes when Illumi's number flashed on the screen instead. The phone flashed on. "Hello, brother?"

"Kill," Illumi's oh so emotional voice droned. "You had sent someone to The Spiders' base to negotiate a refund, have you not?" It was a rhetorical question. He knew his little brother never forgot to do anything he was told.

"Yeah, I sent Gotoh last night." Killua placed a hand over his eyes, still adjusting to the light. Hisoka had cleverly left the slave's profile and proof of sale on Chrollo's desk after buying her, giggling at the hilarious turn of events and therefore chucking any chance they had of negotiating some money back out the window. Killua personally thought it best to leave it at that, but Gotoh, his personal secretary, took any fraud against The Zoldycks a heavy crime and volunteered.

"You better find yourself a new secretary, Kill."

"What are you talking about?"

"A packaged arrived. His dead body is inside, the blade still in his abdomen. How nice of them."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Are you ready? I'm so excited!"

Another early morning, they were next to the gates. Gon let out a deadpan smile. He was getting sick of watching people die day in and day out; and nearly a week and a half without food was starting to take its toll on his body. No one seemed to notice.

Not a single fish swam in the pond nor did bird fly in the sky. He couldn't hunt. In a forest green dress and white scarf this time, the only thing he was never short on was clothes, which was dumb. As if conveying by tradition, Alluka grabbed his hand to break him from his thoughts, intertwining their fingers to drag them back to the clubhouse. He noticed Alluka stood closer this time, and didn't understand why.

Kalluto had told him yesterday that Alluka always accompanies their new members on the first day, becoming increasingly distant as their time in the division grew longer. But Gon felt like it was the exact opposite. It was his fifth day. For some reason Alluka was getting clingier, their detours around the forest longer, and the hugs more intimate. Gon knew he wasn't allowed to protest against him. That would be ungrateful, so kept his mouth shut. Like in the sewers, Alluka was the dictator between them.

They reached that same familiar room in an hour. He subtly shook Alluka off his shoulder which was being cuddled half to death. Battleship remained the theme for the days after and Gon had yet to be chosen. Every time, he stood, gun against his head with chains stern to his ankles to prevent escape. Nothing but helpless, he hated it. Kalluto suspected after their first meeting that it would be the only way to keep him down. It was beginning to make him resent this place more than anything else. He was expecting the same today. That is, until they walked into the room.

Gon stiffened. A razor hung from the ceiling. "Alluka-chan, what are we playing today?"

Off guard, Alluka took the chance to huddle up to his shoulder once more. "Hangman!"

_That doesn't sound good._ "Hangman…?"

"That's right." Alluka proceeded to his usual spot on the top floor. The bell rang. His finger pointed. Soon an eerie tune skipped out of his mouth, dancing between the children and adults shivering behind each other, trying to avoid being chosen. To Gon's shock, it landed on him. "Yay! You get to guess the word, Sweetheart."

Gon was gestured to the center by Kalluto. He watched when the next round started. This time Alluka's voice was no longer high strung and sweet. It darkened as the song went on; like that story of the clown that turned evil. It fell down to two notes, one B flat and the other a C sharp, alternating between them. Gon thought he imagined it at first but as Kalluto was tying him to a chair, he noticed it sent a chill down his spine. It was barely noticeable to anyone but him. Gon reached a hand out to pat him on the head.

"It's alright."

Kalluto's eyes widened. He stepped away, about to say something, when Alluka's voice flew across the room.

"Ah, it's you this time!" They turned. Gon froze when he noticed where his finger pointed, right at a familiar 8 year old girl with long brown hair who had lost her mother and sibling just days before. He remembered her name was Maya. She didn't say anything, merely stepped down the stairs in a monotone chorus of sandals to cement.

The floor beneath her gave way when she stood in position, this time revealing cheap rotting shackles and a second razor. Gon wanted to ask them to pick someone else, even one of the crying adults on the side silently praying to switch places, but Kalluto covered a hand over his mouth.

"Oh, I have a phrase! It's two words. The first is 4 letters and the second 7 letters-"

Alluka paused in deep thought. Navy eyes moved to the ceiling, moved again, and then stared at Gon for an agonizing half a minute. He tried to squirm from Kalluto's firm grasp. Eventually he registered those short arms letting go but the ropes kept him down. Gon could feel Alluka's firm gaze tracing the skin of his legs to bones of his ear, ending on a spot near his lips. During this, he focused all his attention at a beetle on the floor. He felt vandalized.

Finally, the dictator grinned cheekily. "No wait, I change my mind! I have four words for you Sweetheart."

"The first is 4 letters, 3 letters, then 5 letters, and finally 2 letters. Guess one!"

No answer; Kalluto nudged him when he didn't reply. Gon promoted from the beetle to observing the blank stare on Maya's face, long enough to regard the others with a glare. "T."

"Nope!" The bottom razor came to life, roaring through the caves like a deranged beast. One second the crowd was watching in fascination at its power, the next, Maya's left arm was chopped clean off. She screamed. She yelled for help. Everyone save Gon, Kalluto, and Alluka looked away as if pretending it wasn't happening at all to escape the responsibility. For a moment, Gon stared in disbelief. He'd never seen a game like this before.

His fists clenched. He turned to Kalluto's unaffected gaze and whispered.

"…Are you sure?" It didn't need thinking, he just nodded.

From his spot on the balcony, Alluka huffed, faking impatience. Underneath it all, his smile grew wider. This was finally getting fun! "Sorry, you have five guesses left-"

"I'm not playing."

Alluka's mood cut off like a record player. He looked down, met with cold violet eyes. "What?"

Without warning, the steel ropes binding Gon down broke loose. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He leapt from them, charging close to Maya as she finally cried, continually calling out for her mother. The rotting shackles on her ankles were easy demolished by the heel of his boot.

He hugged Maya against his stomach, dashing for the closest exit. Alluka was faster. A shadow loomed over. No hesitation, Gon threw whatever blind punch he had left towards it with nearly every ounce of strength his starved body could muster. The destruction seemed to misfire at first when Alluka stepped aside. Gon let out half a sigh of relief when it still made connection to his shoulder.

Alluka's recoil collided against the opposite wall from the force, and Gon sprinted into the tunnels. He had to get Maya out of here. The splashing of water below, the sound of a bell from afar, and the silent sniffles of the girl in his arms was all he could hear. Not even his own breaths registered. He jumped from cliffs, skidded from several railings, fell once. It was only a full five minutes of running later Gon realized he had no idea where he was going.

Very close, he could tell several search parties had been dispatched for them.

"M-Miss, a-are we going to d-die?"

He nearly tripped. Gon remembered that Maya was most likely devastated. Her green eyes which brimming with tears tightened. Blood stained both their clothes red; leaving a bad scent he didn't like that could be easily tracked. Gon felt tired, walking around carrying not only his own weight but the little girl's. By some unknown miracle, he found the energy to speak.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, "but _you'll _definitely live. I'll make sure of it."

"You have an enormous ego."

A voice so close it diffracted over his shoulder, made him instinctively jump ten feet away. He whirled and to his relief, or not, he wasn't sure, was faced to face with the emotionless glare of Kalluto Zoldyck. Gon was about to ask but like many times before, Kalluto read his mind. "I was following you the whole time."

The frantic boy was confused, opened his mouth once more and was interrupted again. "You're going the wrong way. You can follow me, but trusting me is your choice."

Kalluto branched off to the right. From the small ridges of sunlight that shone above, he could see the aquamarine of his obi swish the other way in response. A particularly abundant amount of blood spilled against his chest and Maya whimpered. Kalluto left an invisible trail. Without doubt, Gon went after it.

There was always some factor of uncertainty of being discovered that loomed over all of them, even the young Zoldyck. The fading darkness did little to ease their worries. A manhole from above let in extra sunlight that it reached the point he could see his reflection in the water. It was still green. When Gon saw it at first, he couldn't help but wonder if Killua was okay again.

Maya resorted to playing with his long orange hair with her one good arm to distract herself from that ebbing fear. After minutes of silence, she was content enough to speak. "My mom's favorite color was purple. She thought it was the container of life."

He blinked, looked down at the girl staring at him, and remembered that his pupils were dyed purple. He smiled lightly. "It is a nice color. But my eyes aren't actually purple."

"They aren't?" Her mouth rounded in amazement.

"It's a…" he scrunched his face, trying to remember the name. "Contact lens, I think it was called. It can turn your eyes purple."

"That's neat!" From the front, Kalluto offhandedly listened to their conversation. They were nearing the exit on the other side of town, where they were least likely to get caught, which was why he took the detour. As the light at the end of the tunnel, figuratively and literally, came into view, he let the two now giggling children know. When Gon heard, he instantly made a beeline for the exit.

A garbage dump of many smells met them outside, but to them, seemed like heaven already. He let the girl down with a gentle push. "Go on, run."

She didn't. "What about you?"

"I…" remembering his vow to repay those who owned him, Gon shrugged. "I can't."

"NO!" To his shock, Maya screamed, decapitated arm long ago wrapped in the pure white, now bloodied, scarf Gon had given her. Tears he thought long forgotten reemerged. Dirty arm tried desperately to wipe them off so she could form a coherent sentence. "I-I don't want to be alone…"

"You have to be." For one blissful moment, her sadness was forgotten, replaced by complete befuddlement at the calm demeanor. She watched as he reached for a small box in his pockets, carefully pulling out the lenses from his eyes with a firm hand. Beneath them, chocolate brown flared. He handed the circles in the box to her. "But it's better than being dead, that's what your family would think. Don't you want your eyes to be purple too, Maya?"

The little girl stayed still before gently taking the container from his hands. She turned it in her palm, opened it, and stared at them in slight awe.

"I'll let you have them if you run. Get as far away from this city as possible." _This life of slavery isn't for you. _From the depth of her subconscious, Maya felt a raindrop land on her nose, signaling the beginning of a storm. Yet everything but his determined gaze, his utter reliance for her to escape seemed invisible. Her eyes grew wet. To keep Gon from seeing, she nodded them away.

It was hard, the words choked, the air burned her throat but she commanded her feet into a jog anyway. "I…promise." Brought one weak arm up at first, shaking from the uncertainty weighing down on it until straightening out, sending one farewell to them along with her life's gratitude. "Thank you!"

Gon waved back, grin never wavering even as the small silhouette went out of view, until nothing but the sky around him was left to see. Talking with air because no one else could be around to listen, he sometimes preferred it that way. His bronzed palm lingered even as the downpour drenched him and he heard the gentle footsteps of Kalluto behind.

"Why did you help her?"

"Because she asked for help."

Kalluto stepped away from a sewer rat. He noticed the knot around his kimono had fallen disarray sometime since this morning, but didn't bother to touch it. For the first time, his face edged away from emotionless and bored, making way to the silver of bewilderment. "What's your name?"

Names were the second leading sign of humanizing a slave, the number one offender being their face. Owners often used potato bags or used newspapers to cover their head and a rope over the mouth to prevent any names from sneaking out. It would be the first he'd heard it since coming here. "Gon Freecss."

"I see." They should never be asked, but Kalluto didn't find himself regretting it at all. He never did really, it was just something he was told. He turned and made to head into the tunnels. "We're going back."

"Right."

It was a walk through that putrid scenery Gon was beginning to get used to, zigzags through marsh, sometimes echoes of those stumbling above them. Occasionally voices of the search party could be heard but luckily Kalluto always managed to steer the two away from them. Not a step into their journey and they both certified the destination as the main clubhouse where Alluka would undoubtedly be.

Gon knew what waited for him would be close to death. His fists tightened.

"Please don't resent Alluka."

He nearly ran into the smaller body, toppling the two over if Gon wasn't fast enough to move aside. It took him a moment to register Kalluto had said anything, let alone ask of him a favor that sounded ghostly familiar to the one he had been requested of for Killua just a few days before.

"He is…not the best person, dark to you, yet the brightest for a few select others at the same time. To sacrifice the philanthropy of human to keep him content is not something I'd imagine you approve of." From the echo which bounced off walls and into his eyes, Gon realized this was the first time the quiet boy was opening up to anyone.

"But what if that content was the nail that someone you loved was holding onto before falling to the depths of hysteria? What if I informed that Alluka was slowly withering in his own body? What would one do then?"

Through the reflection of sunlight from the water to his face, Gon noticed the tiniest shine on the tip of his eyelash.

"Alluka-chan seems to like you." Again, he repeated. "Please don't resent him."

Gon didn't answer. He simply didn't think anyone could tell him how to feel no matter the circumstances. For some reason it wasn't as easy to say yes like it was with Killua. _But how do I feel about Alluka?_ He wasn't sure.

Soon the encompassing arc came to view. They jumped onto a balcony and took the stairs down. Sure enough, Alluka stood on the ground floor, scissors and cut outs of stick people around him "There you are!"

"Kalluto caught me. The little girl escaped." Gon found that was the first thing out of his mouth. He didn't want Kalluto in trouble for being accused of anything like helping him.

"Really? Wow Kalluto-chan, you won!" Alluka giggled. Behind his back was a crown of flowers neither had any idea where he got from, Gon assumed they were made just now. It was shoved on his little brother's slightly displaced hair. It was a blow to Gon's pride when he noticed both of Alluka's biceps lifted that his punch from earlier had done almost no damage. The long-haired boy stepped back.

"Do you mind leaving us alone, Kalluto-chan? I already dismissed everyone else."

Kalluto sent a look at Gon who kept a straight face. It was the first he'd ever seen someone so calm. Another second and Kalluto nodded his head. His steps made no sound, gone from the room in instants.

Gon looked back, Alluka was still smiling.

He stared at what was once an innocent boy turned towering man.

Suddenly the body disappeared in thin air.

Gon jumped back, eyes darted. There was a weight on top of him. He fell to the ground. Something strained his legs from moving, held his arms back. So focused on breaking free, it took him a full second to take in the moist butterflies on his neck. Alluka was kissing him.

His body too starved to fight back; he wanted to shout, for him to stop, until those wet kisses cuddling his throat were replaced by a cold knife. Gon's eyes widened. With the blade still sharp against skin, Alluka leaned down to give him a peck to the cheek. The shift in weight withdrew a drop of blood.

"That was a fun game of tag, Sweetheart. I have to say you're the first slave who's run for so long, heehee!"

Gon felt a wet force on his lips this time, he flinched. It suffocated him, tasted rusty, he tried to twist out of the position, but Alluka held him down tighter. The blade lightly slit against his shoulder blade to silence him. Alluka moved away from Gon's mouth to blow into his ear, sending an ominous chime through his head. "But you didn't finish our game of hangman."

"The answer was: will you marry me?"

His face paled.

"You have a choice between marriage and death. I'll give you until tomorrow."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Gotoh's funeral ended on a low note.

Or, at least, whatever funeral Killua could put together. Gotoh had no relatives, no friends aside from a few butlers and Killua himself. That's what most of the people he hired were like anyway, heartless and alone. It prevented two-timing from happening yet at the same time was a hassle. That meant each occasion one of them died, Killua had to use what little of the breaks he had left to schedule a proper cremation. No one ever helped him.

The date was too difficult for anyone but him to manage into their schedules so he was the only one there. It was short, no music and speech, nor the singing of a choir to ease his worries. By the time he left, black car waiting for him outside in the loud rain, he felt nothing.

The man who was there to witness his birth, the one who offered to come with him when he moved out of his father's home in France, was gone. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. No urge of supreme vengeance erupted from his core; he noted The Spiders were too dangerous. He neither wanted to cry himself away nor go out to massacre a gang; the printer he destroyed the way there was enough. There was nothing he could do.

A fly, wings too heavy to take flight, lay flat on the window. It loitered, tried to avoid being washed away by the rain. Killua diverted his stare from it when his ringtone sounded in the car. He barely looked at the screen long enough to find out it was his alarm. It soon came accompanied by a text. He hid the abominable machine under his thigh to muffle out the sound. Then he motioned the driver to take a different turn, away from the headquarters and their usual route. The pokerfaced man nodded.

Normal roads turned to abandoned ones which morphed into alleyways. Knocking over stands, tipping abandoned laundry lines, it was not even where cars should be. Soon enough the space between buildings narrowed to the point that the man was forced to stop in front of a composter. Killua handed him a bundle of cash from the back seat in exchange for keeping quiet, and stepped out of the vehicle into the downpour. He didn't even have an umbrella.

Homeless outlaws, those with headbands tied crooked and half their body covered in stitches eyed him at first. They were the kind that teamed up to cover their own shortcomings. When they saw who he was though, white hair not bothered to be hidden, they went back to their own business. Killua ignored them. He walked an extra two blocks, clothes drenched by then. A shack with signs and worn paint came to view. Low current light bulbs accompanied him. Killua knocked, pale face as empty as any human thought possible.

A man with brown hair down to his shoulders opened the mail slot. He spat his cigarette onto the lot. "Took you long enough, rich whore."

"No attitude; I'm not in the mood for it." Killua threatened to kick down the door. It was only then he was allowed in.

"My, feisty as always," the man chuckled. The boar tone of it made Killua's eye twitch, teeth clench when he felt the other's eye trace the seaming of his body the second his wet jacket was discarded on the couch. He was stuck half crouched for a full minute as the man commanded and scoffed. In contrast to Killua who wanted to get this over with, he was keen on stretching it as long as possible. "…But still beautiful. What's wrong, depressed that your dumb babysitter of a butler died?"

The middle-aged man only looked away for one second, it was to check for that piece of corn that was stuck in his teeth since this morning, and suddenly found himself pushed to the wall. A gun pulled from nowhere was lodged in his jaw. Killua seethed, "you'll never be worthy enough to even _mention_ Gotoh, Doctor."

"Ho," The doctor grinned impudently. Inside, he was sweating bullets. The Zoldycks were as if not more dangerous than The Spiders. This deal was too hazardous, could cost him his life one day. Yet, he thrived in the satisfaction, that sick feeling of accomplishment he got at having someone so seemingly out of his reach in the palm of his hands. He mumbled from the side of the muzzle. "Is this any way to treat the man keeping your precious Alluka-chan alive?"

At this, Killua withdrew the rifle, but kept his dangerous grip on the man's collar. It meant little. They both knew all he needed was his nails to kill him. The gun was just for show. "Then keep your disgusting nose on that and away from my other business."

"I can't promise that. I'm a greedy person, as you know. You better get started before I change my mind."

Killua hissed. He straddled the man's neck, bringing their bodies closer as if to deal the finishing blow, rip his vocal chord in half. Instead, their mouths met in a symphony of lust and hate.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The storm grew worse. Wind speeds barely crossable on foot as it howled against cracks in the bridges and harshly stole branches off newborn trees. This late at night, with no transportation and halfway across town, only one walked alone through the deserted streets. They would call him crazy until the moment they saw his face.

A black newspaper flew over his head, no reaction aside from throwing it off. Killua limped. His backside hurt like several thousand watts on his body. Why did that pervert have to be so rough? Use someone one-third his age as an outlet for his own libido? _Because he can._ Some little voice in his head answered. He didn't know how he got to this point, sleeping with a black market doctor to pay off Alluka's medical bills. It was the only way. With what father said, it was the only way…

If it was a week ago he would be scowling, letting the empty feeling inside him grow stronger with each push that man forced into him in bed. It'd overtake him; fill his mind with nothing but distractions. He convinced himself he'd be alright the next day, grumpy and piled up in work. Seeing his little brother's smiling face healed almost all of it. Soon he'd forget about it enough until his next appointment with the doctor.

Now, as he stared into the gray horizon, the spot where heaven touched earth merely a line in the distance, he felt as if he was the worst person in the world. As if death itself was not a harsh enough punishment. Was it because Gotoh was gone now? No.

…_What would Love think?_

Killua suddenly wanted to choke. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that all he thought about as the sweat glistened off his cheeks, as he felt himself violated over and over, was the idea of meeting up with her again. It felt like a getaway for his mind as his body went through hell. How could he feel so strongly about her after only meeting her once? It made no sense yet at the same time answered every question he posed.

A few minutes passed and he finally reached the gates of his home. He stared. It was a house countless have tried to steal from him but held no emotional attachment. The fence loomed cold. Just like he did hours ago, he felt empty. There was nothing he could do, _again_.

_No, wait. Maybe there is._

In the end, he went to his office for an umbrella and hoodie and came back out not a minute later, deciding to continue looking for Love. He promised himself he'd try at least once a day. It was wet, no one else would be caught dead in this storm for more than a second, and he was only excused from work for the rest of the night, wasting it away on some futile search. He could catch a cold. He would feel crummy and unrested the next day, for the rest of his life probably. Everything about it was stupid. But now, when he was lost in blankness, half confusion, seeking her felt like the right thing to do.

Killua retraced his steps from their journey for the twenty seventh time since they met. He was convinced in the beginning that finding her wouldn't be too difficult. She would be running around in the rivers and forest again, but after the second night, thoughts of 'what if's flooded his cranium like a disease. Killua remembered it clearly. He had gotten lost in the tunnels that time, no luck, and suddenly he felt his thoughts do a swan dive into uncertainty. What if she was only in town for that one day?

That familiar arc came to view. Killua easily skidded over the fence.

What if he was really talking to his imagination that whole time?

The bottom of the two hills had begun accumulating muddy water. It was rising higher as the seconds ticked by. Sooner or later the opening they had entered would be flooded as well. Feeling a sudden spike in his step, Killua ran to it.

What if she died somewhere after saving-?

A huge splash cut him off. Killua was caught off guard. He had tripped over something and landed right on his chin, nearly dislocating a tooth in the process. He felt like shit. Lying on the ground for a few seconds, listening to the tapping of rain, he contemplated staying there, letting the water seep through his lungs. He shook the idea off. Dirtied elbows lifted him up. Drenched teen sat disheartened, and Killua proceeded to explode at whatever tripped him in a tirade of curses. White hair whipped around.

Green dress in ruins, strands of dark hair danced along the stream of water, body still, a girl was laying sideways cold on the floor.

…

"Love?"

Killua covered his mouth. He said that without thinking, but when she didn't answer back, he crawled closer. The body was breathing but just barely. He gently turned it so she was facing him. Blue eyes widened under bangs that stuck to his brow. It _was_ her.

He wasn't sure what happened then. An overwhelming feeling to grin, tell someone that he wasn't delusional, show this girl off to the world, came to him. It was embarrassing. Though he was sure another feeling of fear won over that time since, the next thing he knew, he had her in his arms. Killua sprinted towards the mansion in a thunderstorm of flashing lights and colors. Violet umbrella lay forgotten in the swamp.

When he made it to the elevator, two guards standing by pointed a Taser at him. They believed he was a troublemaking kid trying to vandalize. Killua seethed, he didn't have time for this. He lowered his hood and glared coldly, that did the trick. They immediately dropped all weapons and apologized profusely. Yet when he tried passing, they pointed again, this time at the feverish girl in his arms.

"No intruders allowed, Mr. Zoldyck."

_You've got to be kidding me!_ Killua panicked for half a second. He thought fast. "She's my new secretary."

The two guards looked at each other. They seemed to not approve of it but stepped aside. Killua didn't give two flying fucks what they thought and rode the elevator to the fifteenth floor. On normal days the ride would be too short for him, dreading the moment he'd have to walk into that platform and judge another parade of strippers. For some reason now it felt like eternity. The jazz music scratched his aching ears. His muddy expensive shoe twitched and left tracks on the floor. He couldn't help but steal a few glances. She breathed heavily, cheeks red, limbs much too light in his arms for comfort. _How long has it been since she ate?_

By now it was late. While the building still ran all night the highest floor dedicated to residence should be asleep. Killua nearly did a face palm. There was a flaw in his plan. Maids, waiters, and butlers had keys to every room. The only one they didn't dare enter without permission was his, as he hated being pampered and dressed with help. It was absolute that the girl wouldn't want to stay there.

"Sorry." Seeing her weak body, he shoved all the issues aside and snuck to his room.

Water, food, warmth, a towel; all these things flashed through his head as soon as he entered. He lay her down on his bed, paying no mind to the sludge that tainted the pure white sheets. The first thing he did was dry and clean her face, hair, and arms with a towel, not daring to lay a perverted hand on her. He didn't want her detesting him again. Brown boots were thrown to the floor.

Looking around, Killua spoon fed her the half-eaten vegetable soup that he left on the bedside this morning. He checked the bloody wound on her neck he remembered her getting after the fall. To his delight, she still had the bottom ripped half of his shirt wrapped tightly around, wound almost healed. It was sometime then he realized how weird it was playing the good guy, but some of the soup trickled down her jaw. He couldn't help but wipe it off. Through all of this, she remained completely unconscious.

An hour later, her fever had gone down. Some of the color had returned to her face. Killua offhandedly noted how she had a strong immune system. He watched her. Chest fell up and down, her hair drooped cutely from the water, she mumbled something, and all he did was continue watching. The sight was surreal. It was as if he was memorizing it, scared that when he woke up the next day, all of it would be gone once again.

Reaching over, he tenderly weaved the hair stick out and laid it on the table. In its place, he curled a strand of her hair around his finger.

And watched, Love didn't vanish.

Killua chuckled. "I found you."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Gon woke with a stinging sensation in his throat. Sweat coursed through nearly every inch of his body. Once spikey hair now fell in impassive leaflets that itched skin. His mouth tasted like sawdust but for once, his stomach didn't feel like it was caving in on itself. From his swollen cheeks, he could sense the moon shining through the windows. It was still early sunrise.

Brown eyes shot open. _Windows…?_

He lifted himself up from the covers, still feeling feverish yet sparing enough energy to search around the pitch black room. His sight was so blurred he really couldn't see anything. It was something that never happened to him before. The last he remembered was wandering the sewers, hiding away from the rain outside. He usually slept in a tree at the park but with the first stormy night since his coming here, that compromise became impossible.

Gon thought harder to what happened. It was miserable. Seating himself against cold metal, he concluded he didn't want to die. It wasn't much different from the original idea of being a bride. Accepting Alluka's proposal, being by his side, loving him, wasn't asking for much. It would be the best possible and right route for him to go. He remembered that much before succumbing to darkness, oblivious to how he nearly ironically gave himself up to death right there.

Now waking to the cozy atmosphere, Gon planted one of his feet to the floor, leaving the bed in favor for finding out where he was. He already made his choice. He needed to get back to Alluka. His tired arms felt their way around a desk, two shelves of documents, but as he reached a door, didn't notice his foot kicked over a pot.

The sharp wave of it breaking into pieces burned his ears. It pivoted, gradually knocking against a coat rack. Gon heard another noise coming not too far away. Without warning the room was bathed in lamp light just as the rack fell over him. The wood hit point blank against the bone of his temple. It stung. Gon yelped, felt himself almost hit a wall until two skinny but comforting arms caught him. Someone held him against their chest.

_His body too starved to fight back; he wanted to shout, for him to stop, until those wet kisses cuddling his throat were replaced by a cold knife. _

Instinct drove in; Gon pushed the person back, nearly screamed. The faint smell of cologne pierced his stuffed nose, one he knew Alluka would never wear, but it was too late. As he fell to the ground, all that exhaustion and hunger and trauma and other things kicking in, an epiphany slapped him like a bucket of iced water. And for the first time since Mito's death, Gon allowed himself to cry.

He was _scared_ of Alluka.

The next time he regained consciousness was a few hours later.

Gon didn't open his eyes, they were too sticky. He simply buried his head deeper into the oddly shaped pillow until the awful feelings went away. Somehow, it worked. The warmth soothed him. For a moment, he forgot about meeting at the clubhouse again, but when the sun's high noon rays nicked his back, he bolted up. Right into someone else's nose.

"OW! Just full of surprises, aren't you?" Gon tensed. He wearily opened his lids, crust falling off them. Facing him were those same bluest eyes and cloud of white hair he thought he would never see again, but that wasn't all. The man who owned those features was lying in bed, right next to him, cuddling against his hair like a teddy bear.

Gon was ready to kick him but just in time the other had read his mind. He lifted both hands to stop him.

"Wait! Look, I wasn't planning to do this. It's just…you woke up a while ago and wouldn't stop crying." In the middle of the pause, Killua looked away. Red adorned the surface of his skin where neck met jawline. Eventually he turned back and leered, too timid to fully come out. Bringing back an old wound, "b-but I didn't do anything like I said. See?"

Gon blinked; simply amazed that he could manage to cry in his sleep. Killua being here made sense. It answered all of the questions he had. From being away from the rain, to his slightly filled belly; all at once, gratefulness and guilt overtook his subconscious.

"Thank you."

Killua scratched a spot on the back of his neck. "No problem." But his smile faded when he saw Gon stiffly jump out of the covers, still recovering from the fever. He collected his boots and hair stick on the desk, trekking the short walk to the now fully visible door. The pieces of the broken pot were swept aside as he apologized for breaking it earlier. Then, he made to reach for the door knob. "Where are you going?"

"It's…" The boy stopped; looked back at Killua. All over again, the gratefulness swelled up inside him. He decided that he deserved to know that much at least. Gon smiled weakly. "I'm getting married."

Killua's breath cut short.

"I was proposed to yesterday." If what Alluka did counted as romantic. "And…"

He flinched when Killua stood; face as unreadable as he'd ever seen. Yet behind the facade, he couldn't help but sense a wave of bitterness. A mix of the emotion drowned him. He couldn't be sure of anything and at the same time, had never been so certain of what someone else was feeling before. It was as if the floor quaked backwards, urging Killua to faint with it, but he stayed strong, hiding it like a veteran. "Is that why you were crying?"

Gon diverted his attention to a bird out the window, feeding its young. He didn't speak, and immediately they both knew the answer.

"What about everything else?"

"Huh?"

His eyes transformed from cold to heated. "The fact that you were starved, sick in the rain, _near death_ when I found you."

"I was-?"

"I know this is none of my business but do you…!" As if fallen from his sleigh halfway down the hill, his momentum died down. Killua trailed, left the sentence up for grabs. They stared blankly at the space in front of his face. "Never mind."

"Do I love him?" His head shot up. Gon had finished it for him. "No."

As if magic, Killua felt he could breathe again, felt that it wasn't suddenly so hard to stand, look anywhere but some nonexistent volume in the room again. Some of the color returned to his eyes, Gon noticed it too, but neither knew what it was. "Well…there you go."

Gon tilted his head; he couldn't help but find it adorable.

"I mean you already know your answer, idiot. D-Don't feel like you owe him anything just because he's the one to propose to you." He only knew half the story, not even, but the words couldn't help but make Gon smile, relax like when the weight was removed from his ankles. It was the first time someone understood. Comprehended Gon's belief in going by what he wanted to do, not someone else.

He felt a shift in heat in the room. Killua had stepped closer to him. At the edge of personal boundaries, Gon didn't move away. For a moment, they both stayed silent under the chorus of the baby bird outside. At this approximation, Gon could feel his heart beat slightly faster and had no idea why. It was weird. They were never on the best of terms. Yet there was no point when they were together that Gon felt any fear towards him. It was a huge contrast to others he'd met here.

"I'm Gon Freecss."

Killua jumped slightly in surprise. "What?"

"That's my name." Gon grinned, "thank you, Killua."

He looked perplexed. "How do you know my name?"

Laughing, he pointed a finger at the door where a gold-plated tag stood bright and clear. On it, Killua Zoldyck was spelt for the world to see. The next fit of giggles, although the first time he'd ever seen Gon so utterly carefree, made him feel stupid at the same time.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The desk was a beautiful maroon in color, abstract strips rippling in circular patterns which only ended when interrupted by the dark border. The largest and tallest chair he had ever sat in seemed the only thing worthy being in its pristine presence. Whoever worked here before really took great care of everything he owned, right down to the stapler, not a finger print in sight.

Gon felt the slightest bit sheepish being allowed to touch everything at first. At the same time, it was amazing. He had learned to read back as a small child from Mito's sister before being sold as a slave. They constantly berated him with compliments on how he was a fast learner. Now, he was stuck at a strange white board called a laptop, instructed by Killua to reply to emails and book appointments. Gon purposely avoided requests for any time after midnight.

After a while, he noticed a trend. The ones labeled 'Mr. Zoldyck' used long vocabulary he could barely understand, most likely sent by those same men in brand name suits he saw outside and paid no attention to the dark, scheming side of the company. The shoddier ones from the brothel preferred to refer to him as 'Killua'. Needless to say, the difficulty in replying to them was colossal, but he could handle it.

"…" That is until one message that didn't fit into either category flashed in the inbox.

The drawers were searched to find a clue to who this email could really be for. Beneath a pack of cigarettes and pile of peach folders, his wrist hit wood. Curiosity taken over, Gon pushed the pens aside and lifted what seemed to be a picture frame to his face. Large innocent blue eyes, messy hair, a childish sneer worth a thousand stars, and next to the little Killua was a taller man. He had hair cut short and glasses accompanied by a party hat. At the bottom right corner were the words, _"Gotoh…happy birthday, I guess. - Killua"_

First glance, Gon couldn't help but burst into laughter. Yup, that's Killua. They eventually died down. He placed the photo back to where it belonged and couldn't help but wonder where this Gotoh person was now.

Just as he prepared to move on to the next email, a knocking on the door sounded. He slid away from the desk to un-mount the chair when Killua practically burst into the room. "Gon…?"

"Hey Killua! Is something wrong?"

At seeing him, Killua relaxed. The underlying itch at the back of his head dissipated. He looked away. "N-Nothing…it's nothing." There was no answer. Confused, he turned to see if Gon was just ignoring him. Then hopped back at said person's face suddenly two inches away from his own. "GAH!"

To his discomfort, Gon only closed the space between them once more. He smelled the air but never went past the distance that Killua had silently sworn not to cross. It took him a few breaths to realize that Gon was sniffing him, for food probably. Then, he remembered what he came here for. Embarrassed, Killua forced a chocolate bar into Gon's hands. "Here."

He stared at it. "This is for me?"

Pale cheeks blushed pink, Killua nodded. _Damn it. It's supposed to be the girl that's nervous!_

"I just ate two hours ago, though." It had been only two hours since Gon had woken up in Killua's room, eaten the food he offered him from the kitchen, and finally had a chance to take that shower he had been looking forward to for a week. He was left in this office to work when Killua was forced into a meeting. Gon was surprised the white-haired boss was back so quickly.

"A glass of milk? That doesn't count as a real meal." On the contrary, it was the best meal the boy had had in a while. Muscles no longer weak to the verge of collapse and stomach in a state of content, Gon knew he owed Killua his life. "Actually, I was hoping I could t-treat you, Gon. You know…to lunch."

"Treat me," Gon repeated and furrowed his brow. "That's not right. I can't pay you back."

Being the fast thinker he was, Killua countered. "Yes, you can. You worked for me the past few hours, right? This is how I pay you."

"Oh." He didn't look entirely convinced, squashing the chocolate bar in his fingers, but before he knew it, Killua lightly grabbed his arm and pulled the both of them into the hall. It was then Gon noted that he was wearing another hoodie today so not to attract attention.

"Relax, I don't mind." Killua smirked playfully.

Gon blinked. This Killua was so different from the one he saw brutally torturing those back in the sewers, the one who did nothing but insult women and use them for their own gain, forcing himself onto him without permission. The two led similar worlds and both had dark sides, Gon concluded, but no. Killua was nothing like Chrollo. _He's not a bad person at all._

They rounded a corner, making way into those silver doors that closed by themselves and brought you to a different floor that he kept forgetting the name of. They opened to a two-way mirror so they could see out while those outside could not see in. One would view the blooming greenery from what the dampening rain last night had done. It was cloudy. The box whizzed down, and they submerged into a comfortable silence. Neither noticed that Killua's lingering hand never left Gon's forearm.

"Ah! That's right. Killua, what do I do with the emails addressed to '_The Assassinated_'?"

It happened again. A surge of emotions emitted from Killua that Gon could all feel at once in a single second. Eyes blank, he sensed panic, loathe, depression, it made his knees shake, like a giant pressure on his chest. And suddenly, Killua was halfway to grabbing him by the shoulders, stopping himself enough to manage staying stock still all at once. He was good at hiding everything. Even voice laced boredom. "You didn't read it, did you?"

Gon shook his head. The pressure lifted. This wasn't the first time.

He had a feeling there was a lot about Killua nobody ever knew.

He was right. On the seventh floor, the light above the door chimed. A woman of six feet, large cup size, and red curls cascading down her back in a luscious black dress sauntered in. Her purse was in the shape of a watermelon. The elevator doors closed, suspending the machine in midair. Gon didn't know what was going on, but Killua tensed. Next thing he knew, he was shoved into the opposite wall. Killua had pushed him away. Bewildered, shocked, and angered, Gon swiftly recomposed himself.

"What did you do that for, Ki-?!"

Sometime between him hitting the wall and turning back, Killua's hoodie and jacket had been thrown off, dress shirt already half unbuttoned. The cursed lady doing all of this had him pinned to the mirror; bottom half of her dress slithering to the floor. Gon immediately looked away. But it didn't muffle out the _sound_. It seemed neither cared that a kid was in the elevator watching the whole thing.

On the contrary, Killua struggled. He choked on the woman's hair, widened the space between his face only long enough to breath, but her choppy lipstick always found their way back. Through the sudden discomfort, he felt a crude hand trailing his waistline. It was a mere second away from pulling his belt down when Killua mustered all of his controlled strength and pushed her away. He gasped for air. Doors banged as she hit them. Those waiting for the elevator downstairs waited impatiently.

"OOH, KILLUA! I missed you so much, why do you never see me anymore?! Why do you cheat? Why, why WHY?" She sobbed from her spot on the ground. Gon took that as a signal that it was safe to look. Really though, he much preferred to play with the sleeves of his dress and grab the handle attached to the barricade to distract himself.

"Corey,"

Killua took a breath in. His voice sounded calm. The woman shot her head up to the owner. It was the first time he had spoken since this whole thing started. Finally, he would give her the attention she deserved.

"Not now. There's someone here with us."

When the woman, the much taller, fuller, and undoubtedly beautiful woman looked at him, still in her underwear, almost like she just noticed he was there, Gon's gaze annealed the slightest bit. Normally he wouldn't be bothered but something about all of this made him uncomfortable.

"Oh, this kid?" She giggled tauntingly. "Don't worry about it. Her parents won't be able to do anything if she was the one who walked in here."

"She's my hired secretary."

"WHAT." Gon was nabbed by the arm not too friendlily. "You have to be joking, Killu. Such a street rat can't be trusted with what makes this company flourish! She'll forge the documents, break into your bank account, and make off with all our riches!"

"Let her go."

Scowl turned into a sneer. "Oh, I understand."

"Shut up." Killua spat.

"So this is your new whore, isn't it? I figured you'd crack someday." The woman turned her attention to Gon. The coil tightened. Just as he felt those pedicured fingers clutch to the point of drawing blood, he maneuvered out of her grip. Twisted under her arm to appear at her blind spot on the other side. She didn't seem impressed.

Watching, Killua moved ever so slightly. "Corey, leave."

"You may think you're all high and mighty now, street rat." Gon didn't move, didn't blink, when a long nail was suddenly dancing on his throat. The fingers danced up to his chin, pinched that spot on his shoulder where she could see a healing wound. It bruised in response. Blood collected around the broken veins. She breathed threateningly near his throat. "But take it from someone who's experienced it before, he's just using you. Killua Zoldyck is not to be trusted."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." Gon was simple.

Killua had just about had enough. From the depths of his pockets, he pulled out 200,000 yen and shoved the green papers to the red head's face. He stepped between them, pulled Gon behind him, anything to get him away from those vulgar words. "Is this what you came for? I don't want to see your face for at least a week, got it?"

"Fine." She sang. The endless possibilities of what she could buy overrode her quickly fading lust. She reached into her purse, pulling on a new skirt, almost like the one she left on the floor was now too dirty to ever soil her body. With it, she removed a slip of paper delivered to her by a man in the front and threw it at him. On it were sentences written in a foreign language only Killua could read. He caught it.

The locked elevator dinged and to the relief of the both of them, the woman left only a floor lower than the one she had gotten on. Killua scrambled for his clothes. Luckily he managed to stop it before he was standing stark naked in front of Gon. He went back to his spot near the wall, this time a growing tension between them. He stood a meter away from his companion, reading the slip quietly, silence.

Bare expression never shifted. "Sorry about that. You okay?"

Gon nodded.

"Was she your wife…?"

Like a reflection, Killua nodded too.

It was only then Gon realized he had been clutching onto the handle the whole time, knuckles turned white. It was almost as if he was holding himself back. When he lifted away, the once straight metal was bent at an awkward angle. The dent got especially terrible in the beginning. That was when he saw the woman all over Killua, his face, his body, his _everything _like that.

Was it so terrible that he wanted nothing more than to punch Corey in the face?

"Gon, maybe we should forget about lunch."

For a moment, one measly second, Gon believed what Corey said and stuttered. "W-Why?"

"Something came up. I have to be there." He wasn't lying. Cutting through the strain in the air, Killua sent him a reassuring smile. "Sorry. I'll have room service send you something to eat."

For doubting Killua even that short time, Gon felt horrible. He sent over a nod, observed as Killua halted the elevator and redirected it back to the second highest floor. Buttons lighted. He was beginning to feel bad for whoever was waiting on the ground level, watching the queue grow. Suddenly, a piece of paper that smelled of ink was presented to him. On it, dark letters spelling _500,000_ yen were printed.

"It's your check." Killua chuckled at the confused look he wore. "The plan was to give it to you at the end of next week. But I know you need it now. I'll show you where the bank is later."

Gon looked at it, and then looked at those expectant blue eyes. He shook his head and shoved it back. "I don't want it."

The taller man didn't move so Gon had to tuck it into his shirt pocket himself. "You've already offered so much food, given me a home, and cured me when I was sick. That's more than anything a slave can ever ask for. Killua; you're the best owner I've ever had!"

Killua stared. His wide eyes permeated shock.

Un-expectantly, that daze was soon replaced by a glare. He wasn't _happy_, he was angry. "Gon, you aren't-"

He was interrupted by the chime of the elevator.

Not hearing him, Gon skipped out the doors. "See you later, Killua!"

It was as if some celestial being had taken over his control, filled him with a desire to say exactly what was on his mind. Overwhelmed, Killua could only utter a "bye" before the metal gates closed on the space between them.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The following days brought a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach. It wasn't an illness. He could walk straight and function normally on what he considered the feast that was sent to his office that day, splitting the food into fifteen portions to survive an extra month and a half. His physical health would be well off for a while. The pain was more of a sensation you'd get when sailing that the boat would sink, the ceiling above would collapse, a bad omen of what's to come.

The fret was soon to be blamed on his instincts. They were silly things. A subconscious that assumed he could move away from the swatter just before crap hit the fan each and every time, just as a fly would. It would later be discovered that the fly themself was powerless. They would sometimes be hit. All they could do was escape, further and further only because their eyes and wings allowed them. They neither knew when the danger was coming nor prepare for it, simply get out of the way. Gon was beginning to understand that feeling all too well.

He hadn't seen Killua at all since their time in the elevator. It had been six days, no one had spotted him. Advertisements to look for the missing boss were pitched several times by those suspecting kidnapping on the lower floors. They were all rejected. During this time, the _Assassinated_ emails sent to him became more frequent. Media loomed, they were shooed off saying that everything was fine. The eldest brother took over the responsibilities in place. Illumi had picked up from where Killua left off too smoothly for it to be of concern. Eventually, the hype died off.

Gon wanted to knock a wall over. _How could they not care?_

All he could do was work. Continue working and staying out of everyone's way just as like a fly. Like hell that was happening. Gon snuck out of his own room on the sixth night. He now had two keys, one to Killua's dorm and one for his own. The CEO had rented it for him just before disappearing, claiming something about girls needing their privacy, whatever that meant. He didn't carry a candle, opting that it would make it easier to venture around the hallways and look for clues much easier.

It worked, for a while. Maids of high class wielded flashlights with paths of light he could easily avoid while waiters were already retiring for the night. He turned the final corner to the corridor where Killua's room was; there was no one there. Gon thought he was home free. Shoulder fully healed and half eaten chocolate bar still in his pockets, he made a run for it.

Only to be stopped by a teddy bear stuffed in his face. He lurched aside, astonished, and there, in striped blue pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, stood Hisoka in all his glory.

"Why, hello there. Did you come looking for me in the middle of the night? Ooh, how magnificent." Gon shook his head ferociously. The pompom off Hisoka's hat sagged. "Aw. If it's not me then, the only one left is your Killua-kun, I presume?"

Gon hardened his stance so he would be ready to run if needed. He didn't notice the slightest heat that colored his cheeks at Killua being called such a way. Hisoka gave off a poker face. Seeing the movement, the blush, Gon's cute attire, it broke out into a lecherous grin.

"Hmm, you're the new Miss Secretary around here. Maybe you don't have to look as far as you think." A muscular index finger lifted to the tips of his lip like he was telling a secret. "By the way, someone you might not want to see right now is in Killua's room."

The boy stopped. Concentrating his hearing, he picked up a sound from the abandoned room. It wasn't the obvious, such as footsteps or even the shuffling of a robber. Rather, they were low toned, voices of pleasure and shifting of the mattress. One was a woman, the other a man. He couldn't recognize either of the voices at first.

Then, they halted. One began to drop. When it murmured a tune that alternated between that familiar B flat and C sharp, Gon nearly fell to his knees.

Without thinking, he rushed out of there, ignoring Hisoka, ignoring the other rooms, and only ran until he was at the opposite end of the mansion. All he could still hear with his sensitive ears was the moaning of Alluka Zoldyck, using his brother's room for another sick game. He had to get out of here, far away from it. Gon pushed past a sleeping guard, jumped into the stairwell, and didn't stop until he was a floor and several rooms away.

Marble wall met his back; he leaned against it and stared into the darkness to calm that shrieking fear. He was such an idiot, thinking he would never run into Alluka again as he worked for his older brother. It was an assumption that eased him. Now he knew that dream would never be realized.

Gon shook every screaming thought that urged him to keep running and never look back. It was the first time his mind had ever been so terrified before. He couldn't be a coward, Killua was lost somewhere. He focused back to what Hisoka said, though the risk of whether the man was lying or not was up in the air. "If I'm the secretary, I don't have to look as far as I think?"

Then, it hit him.

_The Assassinated emails…_

Three hallways over was Gon's assigned office. He quietly barged into the room, not bothering to turn on the light as he sat in that biggest chair and in front of that neatest maroon desk with swirls that circulated in patterns. He turned the laptop on. It blinked to life, and soon the inbox was brought up and scrolled down to the Assassinated email that was sent the first day he worked here. They were from an untraceable address. Gon knew he was invading Killua's privacy. That was why he hadn't looked at them before.

He clicked on it anyway. "Sorry, Killua."

_Tuesday_

_You fucking whore! It was time for the appointment today. I had to drug and tie your pathetic brother, the one with the creepy ribbons, down to fifty four steel cables to prevent him from killing me. I tried giving him the medicine and all he does is sob and scream. Is he finally off the deep end? What's with him all of a sudden? It's like he got dumped. _

_I was nice enough to let it off until my wife and kid came home. That son of a bitch escaped and raped my wife. Then he murdered the both of them and made off with half my money! I only escaped through the back window and had to stake out in a porta potty all morning. I'll tell your father about this and you can swear that dirty mutt will be off to the gallows. - Doctor_

Gon could only assume the email was referring to Alluka. No one else of Killua's brothers wore ribbons, but who was the man sending these? What was going on? He moved on to the next one. It was titled to the day after.

_Wednesday_

_I can't touch you enough for you to repay me. But I'm not such a bad guy. Neither I nor my accomplices will let your father know of this deal if you keep at it a few more weeks. Hearing your pained cries can only sooth so much of the damage. - Doctor_

The next eight sounded unaligned. They were short, talked of the explicit positions he was a part of, one graphic scene against a lawn mower, another right on the kitchen counter. It was sticky; blood was drawn at least once in all of them. Gon could only assume this man was intoxicated in the time of sending them. Otherwise he would've stopped. The emails should've dwindled down, knowing that the news of Killua missing would mean he wasn't around to receive them. Instead they increased. It continued until the very last one. The digits dated today, sent merely two hours before Gon read it.

_I've made my decision. The only way to atone for the loss of my money is to kill you myself. Say goodbye to your pampered life, Killua Zoldyck._

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

From a room with no hinges, a figure emerged. Cries of a woman could be heard across the hall. That was his signal. He walked towards her. She once had bright blue eyes, now darkened, desperate. Her long blonde hair barely covered the suspicious liquid spilled on her back. The naked body withered on the ground in pain. She knew better than scream for help. A mere whimper earned another kick, another round.

Kalluto remained emotionless and looked into the door from where she was thrown. In the darkness, a body with long black hair sat on the bed. An odor infested him. He sobbed, shrieked in unbridled sadness. He wasn't satisfied.

"Not good enough?"

"No!" The man cried. "They'll never be as good as Sweetheart."

"Of course not, Alluka-chan." The woman was shoved aside. "I'll bring in the next one."

From the shadows and within the depths of silence, Hisoka watched unseen, twirling the teddy bear in his fingers as if to amuse himself while the show winded down.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

**Sorry this took so long to release. I was writing a Gon/Killua fairytale (Beauty and the Beast) for a collab project. I'm so happy the last "I've Found You" chapter was a favorite for a lot of people. Please tell me if you liked this one just as much! Oh yeah, and was Gon OOC?**

**I could tell this chapter was a lot more slow-paced but this was the best place to end it. Unfortunately that means the last one is going to be even more annoyingly long.**


	9. I've Found You III

**Story 3: I've Found You Part III**

For two minutes, two droning minutes, the cries stopped. Those across the building long ago pacifying the sounds at most shifted slightly on their own beds in response. He had come across someone intriguing, those rampaging emotions swirling out of control found refuge. They were not the type to remember discretion. _Finally_ was all that crossed their minds.

What caught his interest was a dwarfed body presented before him. Half of the exhausted figure camouflaged in shadows from the flashlight that Kalluto held. It hung nonchalantly from one arm as the other kept a dangerous grip on her shoulder. The girl was terrified, but not crying. It was different to the ones before. Brown hair stuck to her forehead in clumps.

As Alluka treaded away from moist covers and closed the distance, Kalluto made sure to remain stoic. The same couldn't be said for the one in his capture. "The guards found her. She didn't escape for very long."

Navy eyes flashed. "Oh? And why's that, Kalluto-chan?"

"Because no one gets away from Alluka."

"Right! You're so smart, little brother!" He giggled, held the little girl's chin up to the ray so he could see that utter look of despair formed by the crevices in the shadows. It was there, accompanied by that usual spice of loathe. Then, he trailed down. Unfolded her rags so they fell to her knees, took in the sight of her shaking legs, no doubt inexperience radiating from all reaches of them. He stroked them. It was bittersweet fun. He was content doing the routine right there on the doorway, the emotionless boy watching.

"My," un-expectantly, Alluka stopped halfway. Amethyst struggled to look away. "What beautiful eyes you have."

Those irises sparked. The only sign of life either could note. The girl didn't as much as cry until now. "No! Y-You can't have them. Onee-chan gave them to me…you can't!" A whip of steel, no, she was sure it was the wind, flew across her face, leaving a cut on her cheek. Through the blood, it took her a full five seconds to realize Alluka had nearly slapped her. They all locked into a staring contest.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

"…Are you saying these belong to Sweetheart?"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The first thing Gon saw from his trek into the rickety porch was a white light. The light flashed blue and red, the result of a screensaver from a laptop left on the bench. It was the same brand name as the one he rented. Swarmed with homeless men twice his size and an odd smell of metal and cigarettes, the neighborhood covered in mud matched the one he scribbled onto a sheet of paper. The address itself he had gotten by snooping around Killua's office.

This dire piece of information was pinned to a bulletin board, disguised as a cookbook recipe for chocolate fondue written in black ink as opposed to red like everything else. Gon didn't think much of it at first. Then he noticed invisible 'e's written in the corner of select dates on the calendar. They corresponded to the days that the psycho in the emails arranged to meet. He'd like to say his crazy instincts were right most of the time, especially when he crossed out every 'e' on the recipe, it spelled out a coherent sentence. That small bit of detective work fried his brain twenty-five times and took an hour which begged him to spend it hitting his cranium against a wall instead. He snuck out none too subtly and frustrated. Unfortunately, waiting right out the door was a woman in black robes.

Gon didn't like Corey. She accused him of breaking into her husband's office for funds and documents again. He didn't care until after escaping her demand for guards to catch the intruder, alone in a ventilator, and her curses of Killua being useless reached his ears. It was too late to punch her.

Through the poor-insulated floors, he could hear a voice. It dawdled aside the off played key on a clarinet, a muffled cry of pleasure, before contorting to pain. His steady walk broke into a sprint. It was _Killua's_ voice.

Gon wasn't sure what happened that moment. It was the first time this feeling had overtook his body in over ten years. Glistening sweat, the odor of squid mixed with blood, liquor bottles on the floor, those weren't what got to him. Maybe someday he'd figure it out, but for now he had somehow teleported next to the mattress. A wide strike was thrown at the man on top of Killua. Tanned skin over pale, Gon couldn't hold back. He was aiming to kill.

At the last second before fist met skull, a steel pole came in between. Originally the post of the bed, the other had ripped it out to defend in shock. It was a sign of him possessing some combat ability. Gon recoiled, letting out a small cry when the metal broke in half in exchange for the blood running crisp on his knuckles. The man's eyes widened at first in horror. Upon taking in the damaged right hand, he relaxed. The shining gold tooth from between his lips made Gon sick. "What do you want, little girl? I'm kind of busy right now."

Gon focused his gaze to the man's face. He ignored how the other lecherously spread his naked legs toward him, not at all finding what was happening to be twisted or wrong. Through the moonlight of the basement window, those familiar and previously emotionless blue orbs spilled shame, surprise, but mostly fear; fear at being caught this way.

"I'm here to save Killua."

He laughed. Gon hated when people laughed at him. "So I see the whore broke our promise and told. I guess this means the deal's off… but only sending one measly girl? Unarmed, may I add. I could kill her in an instant," Killua flinched. "Nothing will change. I'm a forgiving man. How about it, Killua…?" It was his first reaction. That rotten hand stroked the top of his head; the body shivered in repulsion when the man whispered in his ear. Both were oblivious that Gon could hear it all.

"_I'll haunt you until the day I drop dead."_

It was then he made a predetermined choice.

The doctor chuckled at the silence he received. He leaned away long enough for thick fingers to hook onto white strands and force Killua's face into the pillow. "You have to give me more credit than that, Mr. Zoldyck. This house is filled with steel weapons. We'll only keep fighting until she breaks her hands, her legs, her body." He stood, bringing out a gun from nowhere. It had been undoubtedly pressed against Killua's abdomen the whole time. From a chest, he pulled out jacket and pants which shone like thick chain link steel armor. Then, the gun was discarded. "I don't need a gun to beat you into begging. In fact-"

Gon cut the stupid speech short, this time aiming to trip him with his left leg. _Screw armor._ The man landed with a thud from the additional weight. He had no time to recover when that same blooded fist made contact with his unprotected face. It was a much weaker strike than the first but still broke his nose. He highly underestimated the shorter boy. Gon had a foot on top of him. That supposed little girl's strength was enough to keep the shady man from being able to twitch much less move.

Just as Gon prepared to deck him at full strength, the inferior panicked. He chucked a steel floor tile at the shot. It shattered. The strike went through but drained. Gon jumped back when another sliced through the air in front of him and winced. They manned opposite sides of the room now.

"Looks like both your hands are broken now, little girl." That low-down grin, the one Gon so much wanted to wipe off finally contorted to a scoff. "I was thinking of killing you quick but I think I'll just blow off one limb at a time, eh?"

Suddenly, staggering body made to dive for the discarded gun. But to the shock of both, Killua, now dressed in his boxers, kicked it away. "St-Stay away from her!" The intervention provided enough distraction for Gon to close the distance, lunging at the doctor's back.

"_Refined diamond?"_

"_Yes, that's right. It will never break unless hit by another diamond. That's how I used to cut some of the rocks to do work around here when I was younger! I'll give it to you someday. But now, I only use it once."_

"_Wow, that's so cool! But diamond should never break, so why's that?"_

"_Trust me, Gon. Use it once and only when you really need to."_

Frazzled mane stood untamed, Gon pulled on his grandmother's hairpin. He must've pulled too hard. It unsheathed into his grip along with several strands of his own black hair. Without recoil from the pain at the roots, he stabbed where the doctor's heart would be as hard as he could.

It penetrated, dug a crack in deep steel and crooked bone. He knew it worked when red water puddled. The elbow halfway into striking fell motionless.

Killua was knocked to the bed, speechless. Gon crawled back. His breaths pressured. Like a nightmare or a hurricane, it ended in utter silence. Labored muscles, trapped in the basement to hide from the storm. The ones left were abandoned to fix the aftermath by themselves, whether as massive as a house or small as when the storm itself was their own emotions.

After minutes, someone finally moved. Gon went to pull the seemingly innocent pin turned blade out. It was important to him, wiggled fro but then snapped in half. He regarded the broken top. _Huh? Grandma lied to me…? _But his thoughts cut off, he looked up. Killua had seated himself on the covers, pale back to him and staring out at the window outside. He stepped closer. "Killu-"

"Are your hands alright?"

He still couldn't see his face. "Yes."

"Oh." He rose, was limping alarmingly. Twice, the frail body almost fell but found a spot on the window. He leaned on it like a crippled old man on his cane. He noticed the white hair bobbed ever so slightly. Killua was choking on his own breaths. Instinctively, Gon joined him on the ledge, but the other wasn't in pain. To anyone, it was hard to figure out that the teen was merely chuckling a mellow tune. He opened his mouth then closed it, as if wanting all the words, all his bottled up suffering to spill out.

"Men are despicable creatures. They only want to pleasure their sick minds without taking commitment, so they target others like me."

Gon flinched.

"When two of them want each other to the point of sleeping together, it's only for that reason and that reason alone. I'm ashamed to call myself one."

"Th-That's not true." Gon stuttered, he never stuttered.

"What happened just now?" From the corner of his eye, Killua looked at him. "Who attacked you a second ago and why? You should hate me by now."

"I don't."

"Really." Killua droned sarcastically. "Then you're just clueless. Let me spell it out for you, Gon." Neither knew where this sudden rage came from. The boss was usually so calm around him. "What happened _was _you were almost killed. Who did it was a pathetic _man_ I dragged here myself. And this happened _because _of a product of his and my own selfish desires to satisfy our libidos!" He gasped in, breathless. "Now if still don't hate me, would you mind telling me what you were _THINKING_?!"

Gon just about had enough of being yelled at. "I came to save you-!"

The room rattled. Killua had punched the exterior behind him, missing Gon by a mere inch.

Killua stepped back, looked to his hands. Dirty and bloody from touching that man. Days of un-wash creeping through, he didn't burry his face in them. "You didn't. You made things worse. Now, what am I…?!" To his shock, Gon hadn't distanced himself in fear, only closed the space between them further. "What am I supposed to do, Gon? The medication fees. You…"

"You're going to say I wrecked everything, right?" Killua didn't reply. Gon leaned his forehead against the glass. Drying blood from his wrists stained the white cement. "I did. I wrecked your plans of going at it by yourself until you winded up dead on the streets. I wrecked everything and I don't regret it. Just accept it! I won't allow that to happen, Killua."

He hesitated. "That's NOT your choice to make."

"Then pay me!"

"Eh?"

"Pay me," Gon reiterated. "Pay me for the work I do as your secretary and I'll give it all back. Use that money to get a nicer doctor. That's how I'll repay you for ruining everything."

Killua stiffened, truly looked at Gon for the first time in days. No one had ever figured out what he'd do on those weekend nights before. His father tracked every penny they made, ordered the cut off of Alluka's medical bills years ago on the reason that it wasn't worth it. Even if anyone found out, he knew none in the world except Gon who would pledge such an offer. But, would it work? As this new and very possible idea sank in, his gaze strengthened.

To the CEO, every detail on Gon's face suddenly seemed highly noticeable. That healing scar on his left eyebrow, the way dark hair fell in an uneven arc as dirt tainted his cheeks. It was messy but undeniably cute in a way he knew couldn't be found in anyone else. And through all of this, only one word could be fathomed. "Gon."

The addressed smiled back. "I don't know why you need it. I don't care. Just don't do this to yourself."

"Before that…I have a question." Gon blinked when his wrists were lifted. He watched as blue eyes examined them. Most of the damage was taken by his right hand, a nasty aqua bruise forming near that spot where fingers met knuckles. His left arm was scathed several times by the ricocheted floor tile. None of the wounds were serious.

"Why?"

He tilted his head. "Because I want to."

"Not because you think you're my slave?" At this, he was stumped. It was true. This was the only time he'd want to do something for his owner of his own accord rather than sick duty. It took a minute of silence but eventually, Gon nodded. What he didn't expect was for Killua to lower his head and press soft lips against his swollen hand, as if to heal the blemish. Immediately, Gon felt himself grow warm.

"If you understand. Thank you, Gon." Those words spoken in content and he was trapped in an embrace. One which was as warm as a fireplace and smelt like hot chocolate. It cleansed the stench coming from the rest of the room. Neither the grim on Killua's lower half nor the corpse mattered anymore. He didn't have the will to push away. It was Killua after all.

Only when he felt the other's breath on the tip of his ear, noticed that Killua was for the most part undressed, and they were both guys, something Killua wouldn't want, did Gon squirm out of his grasp. Just as before, he distanced himself to the other side of the room. A gesture which made the white haired teen feel like they had gone back to square one.

"Killua, stop." Gon's eyes hardened. "You're married."

"Oh." As if he just remembered, "r-right…"

They made the trip home on foot. The older of them slowly wiped the wetness away from his legs with a paper towel. Then he etched back into his clothes through the pain by his backside. They were two pieces ripped away countless times prior to intercourse in a bout of lust. Now he found them utterly disgusting. Gon suggested they wait until morning to leave so he could rest but Killua insisted he wanted out of this horrible place as soon as possible. The doctor's dead body would likely never be found until the rent was due. Murders happened all the time in these alleyways and no one cared.

Halfway through the walk, Killua snaked his hand into Gon's grasp. The action immediately raised their spirits the slightest bit. That and the boss was slowly falling into the realm of sleep, guided only by the fingers tugging him forward. Killua wanted to hug him again. He shook the urge off, embarrassed. First he had to rest then take the longest shower of his life. Cleanse his body of that wretched man before coming close to Gon again. That last hug was the exception.

When the back gates came to view, Gon let go of his hand. The absence of that comforting guide instantly jolted Killua awake. He continued down the sidewalk on his own accord but when Gon didn't follow, made a short trek back to him. "Aren't you coming?" Brown eyes stared high up to the fifteenth floor, gazed over. They snapped out of it when Killua shook his bronzed shoulder.

"I…" Gon stared in front. "You go ahead. I'm just going to eat something." It was true, he was hungry.

"Eat what? You know you can't unless I come with you. We should get your hands patched up too." Killua wasn't sure why, but until he saw Gon safely returned to his room, he didn't want to leave his side. Call it an eerie feeling.

"No, I mean." Only one retort and Gon was already out of options. He was always a bad liar. "I mean…okay." Then walked pass Killua. The latter merely shrugged it off as Gon being weird, following him into the 24 hour café just after making sure to conceal his identity.

It wasn't so bad, if Killua would only stop teasing him to buy something more expensive when he was fine with a pizza, and didn't spend nearly an hour bandaging his bloody knuckles out of the emphasis that they should heal perfectly. Many times, Killua's hands had brushed against his palm in a way that made Gon slightly jittery. At the same time, Killua insisted his own wounds were fine, making a show of trying to walk in a straight line only to collapse from the pain in his lower behind. Gon laughed at him. It was at that point they decided to retire for the night, stepping into the deserted elevator without a word.

"What's that?"

Killua looked up from his cell phone to see Gon's amazed face. He had only taken it out to begin his research on doctors in the area. Seeing his companion's enthusiasm for the device though, an idea came into his head. He smirked. "It's a cell phone."

"What do you do with it?"

"You know, make calls, check email, plays games, take photos, those kinds of things."

"Take photos?" Almost like Gon read Killua's mind, he lingered on that feature. He had heard of photos before. They were only affordable for the high class. A luxury, until Gon realized a photo would've been something he'd love to have before his whole family passed away. The similarity in situation made Gon sad.

Almost immediately, Killua switched to camera. "Want to take one with me?"

Gon nodded and sure enough, saw his reflection staring back inexplicitly. He blinked as Killua held the device over them and just as the button was clicked, leaned against the taller boy and grinned without holding back. Killua was caught off guard and looked shocked. When they checked the image, they both burst into laughter at how childish they looked. It was quite a way to kill time.

They gave themselves in to a comfortable silence after that, the elevator rising much too fast for either of their tastes.

"This isn't your floor." The doors opened on the fourteenth.

"I know." Gon smiled. It was the truth. "I forgot something in my office."

"Oh." Killua looked unsure. He threw the doubts away as the elevator doors began closing between them for the second time. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

_No._ "Bye."

The bright box resumed its climb up. It was only a short ride alone, yet Killua felt the freedom to finally smile with all his heart, nothing but the ceiling lights and outside scenery the witness. That ended when the ding sounded. He stepped out but was almost run over by a hoard of police officers. On the way through the halls, the amount seemed to increase exponentially. A yellow tape blocked his path. With surprise, he found out the commotion was coming from his own room.

A body was carried out by stretcher. Its face contorted to the point that a towel was placed over, limbs a cold blue and body completely naked. In confusion, Killua turned, tried to order what was going on, and nearly bumped into a shorter figure that had discretely appeared behind him.

"Kalluto." The name held a slight hand of care. It felt like months since they'd seen each other. "What happened?"

"Killua," right back; that silver of adoration for his older brother. It was short-lived, overcome by a storm of dread.

"You…should sit down."

He shook his head, confused. "No, you can tell me now."

A breath of putrid air, it choked his throat, made something wet well up in the area near his eyes.

"Alluka-chan's dead."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was like a phantom operator.

On business days it did its job, sending emails and booking appointments nearly flawlessly before disappearing behind an untraceable IP address when midnight struck. Rumors, that it was a ghost spread through the main floors. Meanwhile those more skeptical believed it was some advanced automated system that the Zoldycks refused to release to the public. No one had ever seen its face. No one knew the true story behind the secretary of Killua Zoldyck.

While this happened, the office remained empty. Not since Gotoh's passing, not since his replacement's own departure, had it been used. Nothing but the battery and charger of the computer were stolen. All he saw was that morning when Killua went in, alone but hanging on by the thread he didn't know he had, only to find the room abandoned. It was as if it was never used.

Kalluto wasn't sure what process initiated then. Against his superior's wishes, he had expectations. Those expectations of how far Killua would fall were much bigger. Along with a deteriorating body, Alluka had a rare case of schizophrenia. He would mull into delusions through the night that he was born without a soul. Only killing a certain person could fill it. Kalluto was convinced that he persuaded himself to believe this person was out there somewhere and Gon was the one. Killua had allowed it to the point of some of it rubbing off onto him. Or so Kalluto thought.

Yet Killua still spoke coherent lines after Alluka's passing. It lasted up until the following night when the physical disappearance of his secretary hit full on. Kalluto didn't know who the secretary was but had an aching suspicion they did the impossible and crawled their way into his older brother's heart. From that point, Killua uttered complete rubbish; not verbally of course, he practically became a mute after that. The crudeness ranged from his rudely written reports to the afternoons when Kalluto served him chocolate milk, forced to listen to a new line every day that sounded as if it was taken from a really bad love poem.

His usually emotionless demeanor couldn't stop from loathing everything. He didn't know how to feel other than that. Alluka's death…was void. That was it. The slaves rejoiced and Kalluto was forced to be the one to quiet them down.

It'd been a week. The autopsy of the mangled body was scheduled to come in after advanced experimentation. That day's chocolate milk stood hot in his fingers as he marched to the top office. The door in sight, he subtly quickened his pace. When he heard a man's voice from the other side merely two steps away, he halted.

"The investigators called to complain they stayed up four nights in a row to find out the cause. What idiots. But I think you'll find the results very interesting. With our labs, reaching the perpetrator will be child's play. Of course, we'll need your permission to take DNA samples from the suspects."

"…"

"The death of Alluka Zoldyck confirmed 23:04 on Wednesday July 10th was caused by a tetrahydrozoline poisoning in the eyes followed by an intentional strangling of the neck."

"…"

"Upon further inspection, they discovered the violet contact lens he was wearing at the time was coded in it with the intention of fatality."

The chair creaked.

"In other words, Mr. Zoldyck, we need only find the original owner of this lens and you have your murderer."

A crash sounded. Kalluto didn't mean it. His hands had a mind of their own. The contents of the chocolate splattered on the ground. And before he had a chance to barge in, apologize for eavesdropping, and attempt to get his brother alone for a talk, an iron pole was struck against his head.

He felt his body moving at wind speeds before succumbing to darkness.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Gon lowered the device off of his lap. His thigh was beginning to fall asleep. That didn't stop him. He lay on his stomach and faced the screen once more, typing only with his left hand since his right failed to respond. Stealing the laptop on the porch was the last thing that crossed Gon's mind up until the moment he was leaving the doctor's run down house. At the time, he had no plan. It was just to save Killua. He had done it. His owner was safe. He wasn't needed anymore other than the money.

An ad for new suitcases popped up. Now he had a way of working like a proper slave, not the one who stepped over the line countless times. He liked stepping over the line but people were always killed when he did. It seemed like the more he was around Killua, the more he acted on his own will. That was not right at all. He shouldn't be around him.

It was midnight. Gon closed the lid. _But…it's not like Killua really minded._

He was a horrible liar. Talking about duty to stay away and work the rest of his life when in truth he was not a selfless person at all. The number one reason guiding his decision to leave was fear. He had been aching to see Killua since the very day he'd left. It was an obnoxious but justified feeling. Calling himself nothing but the slave made him depressed. He wanted more. He didn't know what.

Gon sighed, let out a yawn, and fell limp against the branch. Something was telling him to go back. Day number fifteen was being strange and poking him to go back a thousand times stronger than the others. It was his instinct once more. He had a burning sensation on the tips of his toes which gradually split through the veins near his chest before pounding somewhere on his temple. It hurt more than when he broke his hand, more than when Chrollo cut his collar wide open. It was the feeling that if he didn't return now, he would never see Killua again.

His train of thoughts ventured somewhere he had been avoiding for over a week now. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. He hated it. He was scared.

What about Alluka?

…

What _about_ Alluka?

He could picture Killua yelling at him for being an idiot. This feeling to see him again, even doing something stupid like playing Tetris instead of working, had been drowning his fear of Alluka in a nanosecond this whole time. It hurt at first. He wasn't used to his resolve breaking so quickly. Before he could control them, his legs bounded down from the tree. Leaves crunched, he was running, running through the streets like a maniac for their life, and he never stopped even for the cars that honked at him or the gang of men who tried cornering him outside a bar.

The building came into view. A full hour of sprinting, he was perspiring; someone's laundry that got caught in his foot flew away. He finally made it. The only landmark which stood in the way was the forest where the entrance to the sewers resided. It was the spot where he would most likely run into Alluka, but Killua was on the other side. Gon took a deep breath.

Someone grabbed him from behind. By habit, he kicked back. A rag was stuffed close to his nostril. It oozed a sizzling liquid which formed into a gas. Gon refused to breathe in. He struggled, got an elbow into the capturer's chin. "What the…? Stay still!" Just as Gon felt himself winning, he was knocked into a stone, out cold.

When he awoke, it was to a brittle mold against his legs and arms. He opened his eyes. His nose hurt. He felt dizzy. A headache he couldn't recall pierced through and he shut them again. Slowly but surely, the fight from earlier came back to him. The impact from the hit had broken his nose. He couldn't breathe with it. The appendage swelled horrifically, yet may have been the one thing that saved his life.

Around him, dead bodies in suits and ties lay. The ones closest to him spilled dried blood that broke within the movement of his fingers. But most of the corpses were blue. They had died from gas poisoning. Gon had to conclude since they were in those horrible sewers again. He looked around; everyone else seemed to be dead except one. A body, the bottom half of their legs completely gone, twitched.

Gon rushed to it, flipped the figure over and stuffed his sleeve over their nose. The figure wore a familiar rag of cherry blossoms and tumbleweeds. It was only after all of this that he realized who the person was. His eyes widened. It wasn't a question, he knew. "Kalluto-chan."

From watching the other slaves, Gon knew there were three stages to the poison before the target's life was stolen. It depended on their resistance itself on how long the process took to finish but all would be present at some point. They would first start feeling drowsy, weak, and irritable. They'd want to sleep yet be unable to. As they moved on to the next step, their bodies would do a one-eighty. Unlike the previous stage, they would have no freedom to do anything but sleep. At this point, all possibility of discovering that they were being poisoned would be gone. But, the last stage was the scariest of them all.

Their eyes narrow, they'd awaken, full of energy as if magically cured. Then, they'd hallucinate. Some would run into the same wall over and over so death would come sooner, even go as far as killing each other in a bout of insanity. It was all to escape the voices which said exactly what they wanted, or didn't want to hear. Others would wait it out, end up in a state where their bodies turned blue and died in a restless sleep.

Gon tried again. "Kalluto-chan?"

"Are you sure this is going to work?" It was not the voice he wanted to hear. He tackled the ground, fending unconsciousness. There were two men. They casually treaded past the cell, once members of Alluka's division. Both adorned those ribbons except with the faces crossed out in marker. Gon realized that he had long ago lost his ribbon. They didn't want anyone in the area discovering what they were doing and probably labeled him as an intruder.

"Relax! The eldest son, Illumi is on leave. Plus with so many undercover workers, it'll be a cinch!" Undercover…? Did that mean Killua's workers betrayed him?

"We're lucky that dumb bastard Alluka murdered the most well respected butler in the estate. Right in front of everyone and with a gun, no less! Half of the Zoldycks' once loyal servants are itching for revenge. They're so desperate they teamed up with us!" Gon suddenly felt guilty. It was his fault that butler died.

"And…" the other one seemed hesitant, almost like he was forced into it. "Just, will we get our freedom?"

There was a pause. The steps were starting to fade away and soon they would be out of Gon's hearing range. Then at the last possible second, "of course, once Killua Zoldyck kicks the bucket."

Gon nearly stood and banged his head against the ceiling.

"Huh? Nee-chan, what are you doing here?"

Instead, his head whipped around. He was so busy focusing on the other conversation that he hadn't noticed a third presence with them. It was a little girl. She had separated from the two men and run back to the cell after seeing a familiar body. He stared in disbelief. "Maya?"

She gasped. "It is you, nee-chan!"

He crawled to the front of the cell, dragging Kalluto's body with him. "Maya! If you're caught in here, they'll drag you away and-"

"I came back on my own." She stated. Out of nowhere, his nose throbbed. It wasn't enough to discharge his curiosity. "I was caught by miss waitress and thought I was going to go bye-bye. But she told me she was working undercover for the slaves in Alluka's division and wanted my help!"

"Help…?" Gon blinked.

"Yup! Help with the massacre of the Zoldyck family!"

He suddenly wanted to throw up.

"They told me their scheme couldn't start unless Alluka was dead first. He was acting strange since you left. I know he likes you so came up with the plan to kill him all by myself! He's gone now. Ne, aren't you proud?" Maya closed the distance between them. She hugged his stiff body from the outside of the bars. Her big sister's eyes were clouded. "…Nee-chan?"

Gon looked down at the little girl's confused stare. Then, memories of the other conversation snapped him out of it. He grabbed her shoulders. "Maya, is Killua already…?"

"Hmm. Mister Waiter planted deto…"she struggled with the word, "detonators to release the poison air stuff in his office at 4am. It's been 10 minutes since then!" On one hand, she held up ten fingers. "But why does it matter, nee-chan? Can it be that you like Killua?"

"Please let me out of here."

"But you haven't answered my quest-"

"**NOW**, MAYA!"

The girl flinched. She didn't speak, simply dove into her pockets for the keys and clumsily opened the cage. Her part in the murder of Alluka Zoldyck had earned her access. Gon took Kalluto's limp body with him, slightly shocked at her lack of protest against the action.

He ran ahead of her, only realizing he didn't know the way out until Maya took the lead and he assumed it was to follow. When they reached fresh air, still not a single word was exchanged. They made to go their separate ways.

Until, "…Maya."

She froze.

"You're really smart. I am proud of you, just…not for this, okay?"

Maya looked away, tears threatening to spill out, but nodded anyway. Just a feeling, nothing but dumb instinct kicking in again, but both knew this would probably be the last time they saw each other.

Gon only had room to place Kalluto's body down on the branch of the tallest tree where no one would find it. Time permitted him to squeeze the smallest extract of basil into the boy's dying throat. It was his self-proclaimed cure of the poisonous gas. He didn't know if it would work this late in the process. Gon wished he could've stayed to watch the recovery. Instead, he ripped the sleeve of Kalluto's yellow sash then jumped down from the trunk, ignoring the metallic taste of the blood which fell from his nose to his open mouth.

The elevators were out of order. He passed the guards by the stairs without trouble. They needed only to approve of the bright gold makeshift ribbon he'd turned into a sweatband and all suspicion was lifted. By now, the exertion of the fourteen story climb paired with his one hour sprint was beginning to get to him. His uncomfortable sleep in the sewers had done nothing. He shook, lunged at the guard with the gun standing in front of Killua's office, and barely managed to hit him hard enough to lose consciousness.

To his horror, the room was locked. The knocked out man had no key on him. The first option was to break the fire-retardant door with his fists. The hit would most likely fracture his only working hand. Gon didn't hesitate, didn't think about it, simply hardened his left fingers and struck at full strength.

It rattled. Gon tackled it with a shoulder. Pain, cringing, absolute torture, his shoulder bruised from the collision. He did it again, this time the door coming down with him. He hit the ground mercilessly. The viscosity of the air changed. The trap had been detonated for well over forty minutes by now. He managed to get on his knees by leaning on his elbows. Gon expected the worst.

There, in the corner, Killua sat seemingly well alive.

For a second, it sent a wave of deceivingly good feelings down Gon's spine. He made it in time! Until he realized that the man wasn't sitting at the table clients usually saw him in. It was bright orange, plastic, and built for children half his age. Silverware littered the counter. To his left was a teddy bear and across sat a puppy toy. The hallucinating had already begun.

Gon knew he didn't have much time left. He ran to Killua, nearly threw his arms around him because he missed him that much, but knew it wasn't the time and place for that.

"Killua." No answer. His hands were broken, he couldn't lift him up. This was his only chance. Once Killua fell into the unconscious state, Gon wouldn't be able to carry him anywhere. "Killua! We have to get out of here!"

Killua flinched. Colors, colors everywhere and they shifted slightly. What was going on? He felt trapped in a box, finding a way out. The teen's lifeless blue eyes trailed to the toy on the other side of the table and he reached across, gently placing the puppy on his lap. "What was that, Gon?"

The real Gon stared in disbelief as the other petted the plushie's ears fondly. The colors got dark again. Nothing was wrong. Despite the strokes growing stronger, increasing in bitterness to the point that Killua was nearly clawing the toy's eyes out with his own nails, his actions held a certain principle of affection behind them. It…wasn't like him at all.

From the table, he saw an outlet. He held a knife up to the toy's neck and cuddled the puppy with an empty smile. Everything was wrong. "No wait, you can't be Gon…she left me again."

Gon couldn't take it anymore. With his teeth, yes with his own teeth, Gon ripped the plushie from his arms and threw it against the wall.

"Killua, stop this! It's me, it's really me!"

"That's not possible, Gon. Gon wouldn't come back. She ran away so she wouldn't be convicted."

The far off teen chuckled. Gon knew he wasn't getting anywhere without breaking the illusion. He knocked over the teddy bear's chair. Killua sprung up and seized his bruised arm. It hurt. What Killua was doing to him hurt. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

Gon ignored it. "We have to get out of here NOW, Killua! There's poison in this room. You're _DYING_!"

"Why should I follow you? You're not nice at all! This room is where I play with Alluka-chan so that can't be. Where did Gon go?" He watched in shock as Killua left his side to search for the puppy toy. Some part of him deep inside him decayed. Did him leaving affect Killua that much?

Illusions displayed what the user wanted to see, slowly picking it apart like the petals being ripped off from a daisy. It made sure the person died not only physically but psychologically. Gon looked down. That meant the teddy was supposed to be Alluka. This was a risk, but with Killua's life on the line it was all he had. Using his teeth once more, he picked up the bear and smashed the closest window with his head. Blood poured down the side of his head. Then, he threw the teddy out into the night air.

Gon expected screams, resistance, even a fight to break out. Instead, he was met with Killua's blank face. Before his mind could register what was going on, he was pushed into a cabinet. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, parted his mouth to gasp just as sloppy lips met his own. Without thinking, Gon kissed back.

Their tongues tangled, slipped off of each other like hot ice that quenched an unknown thirst. Suddenly Gon didn't feel so empty inside. It'd been years since he felt it, being loved like this. He submitted to Killua massaging his lips roughly, opened his parted lips wider to feel the passion spill through. It was like he was gladly accepting whatever this was because he couldn't help stepping over the line once more. Both their cheeks stained into a dark red. All of it was warm and comforting in a way that made Gon want to stay like this forever.

Then, it became a war. Killua leaned over him, forced his tongue into Gon's mouth, pushed the muscle against the inside of his mouth harshly. The strength put in killed whatever reassuring love there was. He felt a sting when Killua bit his lower lip, hard. Blood flowed down Gon's chin. It was too much. He was suffocating. Killua wrapped his arms around his waist, forced Gon's own body to follow his movements. The sharp handles of the cabinet dug into the skin of his back. It drew even more blood.

He couldn't escape. He couldn't breathe. His injuries made him powerless. From what little air he could get, he whimpered. Then, the hard truth came down.

The hallucination hadn't worn off, it was getting worse.

Killua was trying to kill him.

Past the searing in his back to the pain in his mouth, insurmountable grief kicked in. It was his fault Killua was like this. For doing the one thing he swore never to consider; running away. Running away just when his owner needed him. Gon could only withdraw his head from the kiss. There was agony, guilt and that sweet relief as air entered his lungs again. The rejection made Killua worse. The older boy glared at him. "You say I'm dying, right? What makes you think I care?"

Just as Gon caught his breath, it hitched again.

"And what makes you care? You were just using me, even Alluka, this whole time just to see us dead."

"I'm not. I never did."

Killua wasn't listening. "You're just like Illumi-nii and father. And I fell for it, good for you."

"No." Gon blurted. At this crucial time, when he normally knew exactly what to say, his mouth couldn't form any other words than that. Something else ached at the back of his mind. Something which only confused him but was begging to spill out. It felt like a weight, a million times stronger than any he's ever worn on his ankles. From the shadow of the outside, he could see Killua's face slowly growing a sickly purple hue. He repeated. "No."

"Now, after humiliating myself for you so many times and losing everything, tell me again."

Gon felt growing determination to say it. His voice betrayed him. "Killua…I-It's because…!"

"Tell me why should I follow you?"

"B-Because…"

"Why should I follow you and live?"

The weight crushed his lungs.

"Why do you care? And why should I believe you-?"

"BECAUSE I REALLY LOVE YOU!"

Gon screamed it straight from his heart. It was before his brain made the connection. Like a cliff, the confusion fell out from underneath him. It all made sense.

Why he cared for Killua so much and thought so equally of him when Gon was supposed to be lower. He had written them off as simple habits. Those simple habits didn't explain how he could have so much fun around him like he'd never had his whole life. There was always that jolt of electricity he felt when Killua stood too close or looked at him a certain way. Gon knew Killua wasn't just his owner. With that confession, no extreme need to take it back overcame it. Now he knew he had been in love this whole time.

For a moment, one measly second, he noticed Killua's gazed eyes clearing. To the Killua that didn't want to hurt him. He seemed to believe it, the genuine surprise breaking through the illusion like an arrow. Then, to Gon's horror, they narrowed. The poison took over again. Killua had no moment to fight for control.

With that body still looming over him, Gon was thrown against the counter of the work desk. Before he could escape, Killua bit into his neck. He shoved him carelessly against the tape, pencils, and stapler, everything that poked and hurt his back more. The shelf next to the counter fell from the impact, pounding into Gon's skull like a baseball bat. He was losing consciousness. But that wasn't the end.

Soon, he felt a ghostly hand stroking his inner thigh. _No._ Gon didn't want this, not like this. It was all so misleadingly painful compared to the warmth radiating from Killua's body. He kicked to get leverage on the situation, it didn't work. He was an ant trapped in the eye of a tornado.

Stupid useless tears began assembling near the edge of his eyelids. What hurt was that he _wasn't_ scared. He couldn't be scared of Killua. All he could do was sob at the thought that Killua must've truly hated him to do this, even in a state of hysteria. It was complete and utter rejection. The kind that didn't border on good-willed promises to stay friends in the coffee shop and slowly drift apart from their ruined relationship. That would never happen. It was the kind that nearly burned the fire out of his eyes; Killua was the first and only person who could do that to him. He would never know if behind it, Killua felt the same way. And through all of this, he still couldn't bring himself to get rid of those deceivingly wonderful feelings.

That hand travelling further north snapped him out of him misery. Gon kicked again and yelled. "Wait!"

"Nope." Skin nearly lifeless, it seemed Killua was satisfied. Or, this horrible Killua that Gon wanted to go away was satisfied dying here with the last thing he ever did being this criminal act.

"No, I mean…you don't want this, Killua!"

"What do you mean? You're so cute, Gon. I really want you…"

His words weren't reaching him. From across the table, the knife from before lay forgotten. Gon made a grab for it and sliced Killua on the arm. Deep enough for that body, those lips to recoil back, but not enough to leave a permanent scar.

Killua scoffed. "Why you-!"

"I-I'm a boy, Killua."

Silence.

Through the short stream of blood on his bicep to the deep breaths, Killua hadn't realized how weak he had suddenly gotten. Vision hazy, it allowed him a moment of control, away from those shadows which took over and irrational thoughts that plagued his soul. This piece of information was enough to distract his crazed mind to force all of it away. Suddenly, the Gon he was practically raping wasn't fake; it wasn't a figment of his imagination. His eyes focused on the disheartened, bloody, and beaten figure beneath him, those brown irises he loved close to tears.

"You're not lying."

It was all he could say before dropping.

-H-H-H-Here's the BOOKMARK people requested-H-H-H-

The room was foul, smelled of urine. Waking up in unknown places was becoming a bit of a chore, but one thing this place was that the others weren't was bright. The walls were clean, floors dyed beige which bordered more on a color that reminded him of vomit. Loud was also another thing this place was. With rattling metal and dropping plates every few seconds, it echoed in his ears.

His body ached all over. The only outlet was that the bleeding had slowed to a moderate rate which could be held shut with rags. He was lying on the bottom stone hard mattress of a bunk bed, waking up for the first time in confusion.

"Yo."

He looked up, took in a large man with brown hair in a small pompadour, and stared. He opened his mouth to reply but realized a pain near his chest was keeping him from talking very well.

"It's okay, don't exert yourself. You've been asleep for 4 days straight, you know." The man assured him. He was handed a tray with milk and mashed potatoes on the side. Seeing the younger one digging in, he laughed. "It's great to finally have a roommate. The other ones keep bailing out on me and say I'm too scary looking."

"You're not," the boy coughed. It'd been days since he last spoke. "You're not scary. Thank you."

"No problem. My name's Basho." They shook hands. "I'm in here for fifteen cases of first degree murder and twenty four accounts of grand theft auto. Now whether I actually committed those crimes or not can be for you to decide, boy. I can say the same for you."

"E-Excuse me." He was bewildered, fuzzy in the head. It was also the first time anyone knew he was a boy since first being transferred here. His change of clothes into a jumpsuit probably had something to do with it. "Where am I?"

Basho blinked, looked a tad surprised for a moment. Then, his face softened.

"You're in prison."

"Eh? Why's that?"

"Hmm, the rumors about the charges on you are impressive. I'm not sure you want to hear them." He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "But it's not fair to keep them from you. You, boy, have been found guilty for being the mastermind behind the attempted assassination of the Zoldyck family along with the first degree murder of Alluka Zoldyck and several of his apprentices. The bail for you is about 50,000,000 yen, too much for anyone normal to pay, I'm afraid. Also…you're…

You're on the _death penalty_."

Gon wanted to collapse. He hadn't even been conscious the past four days. There was no chance to plead for his case. So he was going to die here? He lied back down. It was too much information.

He remembered parts of it. Jumping out the window, there were police sirens. He scoured along the edge of the building to find the fire escape so they wouldn't find him. But that was wishful thinking. The weight behind him made his internal wounds bleed even worse. His head grew woozy and as the pumping adrenaline worn off, he realized the man on his back would probably not survive, at least not with him. He had only managed to carry him by using the ripped sleeve of Kalluto's kimono, tying the knot around their bodies for support. As he reached the ground floor, the sirens lighted the area and closed in on him. An ambulance drove by.

His vision grew blurry. At the time, the sound was like angels. They would take care of the one on his back. They wouldn't try to kill him. No, they were his last hope of saving him. With that thought, just like that, surrounded by police cars, Gon fainted in the middle of the street.

From beside the shadow of the top bunk, he saw Basho's non-judging eyes continuing to observe him, worried those injuries would take his life before the law did. He was lucky his roommate was a good guy.

Gon sat up.

"Attempted murder…is Killua alive then?"

"The middle child…? I assume so."

That was it. Gon crashed back to the bed, ignoring how it wasn't soft at all and smelt of body sweat. He grinned. "Then everything's okay."

"You're a strange kid." It was voiced in good humor, yet Basho understood.

It was more the world that was strange. Many inmates admitted to their crimes, ranging from simple thievery to grand scale massacres. At the same time, countless were accused of nearly impossible charges for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was the way of justice around here. The police didn't catch the ones found guilty; they caught the ones found closest. For being convicted of the attempted murder of the entire Zoldyck family, Gon Freecss had to have stepped closer than any person ever has before.

That night, a knock on their cell door jolted Gon awake. It was an ungodly hour.

Basho was snoring too loudly to hear above him so Gon forced himself off the bed. He limped towards the narrow window and was greeted by the humorless face of a police officer. She motioned him to open the arm-length door under the window so they could communicate.

"Put your highest level chains on." She droned.

Gon looked at her confused.

"We'll be getting rid of you sooner than we thought."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The first time he woke up was short. There was a tube in his throat. A machine was pinching his arm. It pumped unknown fluids into his veins, making the spot near his elbows swell uncomfortably. He wanted to swat it away but his other arm was unresponsive. A voice noticed the slight twitch near his eyelids and told him to go back to sleep. He complied.

The second time he woke up, he was sober enough to gather his surroundings. The lights were horrid, the smells all mixed into a barrage of an odor he couldn't possibly identify, and the only sound was a slow beep ringing next to his ear. But the tube was gone. His head hurt. He didn't remember anything. Trying initiated a bout of dizziness and he wanted to sit up. This time his body obeyed but the rustling alerted the person by the door. She rushed to him.

"Don't move too much. I'll help you." It was the same voice from before.

After he was upright enough to lean against the pillows, his mind registered that he was in a hospital of some sort. This lady was a nurse, but what was shocking was the entire index finger of her right hand was gone. He looked at her for answers.

"You're in the hospital, Mr. Zoldyck." Killua resisted the urge to tell her he already knew that. "You were so close to death we thought you wouldn't recover, until your brother barged in and forced you to drink a soup he made from basil. Strange, huh?" When she received no response, she twitched uncomfortably. "I'll retrieve him and something to eat for you."

She left him to his thoughts. They were still buzzing in his head, as if he had lost something direly important. His mind, body, even his will wouldn't allow him to speak to anyone until he sorted them out so, he concentrated.

It was neither a walk in the park nor a climb up Mount Everest. They, his memories, led him in a circular maze, beginning with the night he walked in on his bedroom covered in police tape. Kalluto was behind him. That's right. _Alluka's gone._ Killua thought they would end there but winded up continuing. First dozen times he had used it to remember his childhood and fights with his family. Another dozen were flashbacks to his short adulthood when the doctor and his wife made artificial love with him. They were almost always sickening. It left a dark hole in the recesses of his heart. One of his strengths was having a vivid scholar-like memory. Once again, he found himself resenting this.

It would've been so much easier to forget. At least not remember much, but everything was too real. He couldn't convince himself to try persuading his mind that his actions were justified. Everything felt wrong. He had to be wrong somewhere. Some part of his brain which thought so highly, so trustingly of the object of his affections forced the idea down his throat. It stung, but in a good way.

When Kalluto rolled into his room in a wheelchair, it was to the sight of his older brother in tears.

Immediately, he was by the side of the bed and hugging him. In the comfort of the last person he had, Killua cried harder. He let his ugly words overfill and run without filter. They were messed up apologies slurred between sobs, confessions of his idiocy and uselessness. Kalluto thought this was the breakdown caused by Alluka's death until Killua calmed down enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Gon…" Killua choked. "I still r-really love him too."

Kalluto recoiled uncharacteristically. It was to the point that Killua was distracted from his depression long enough to look at him questioningly. Kalluto backed away the slightest bit.

"Gon…are you talking about Gon Freecss, the slave?"

"He's not a slave." Killua snapped. "Or I didn't think of him as one. But I was stupid, Kalluto. It was all a lie. He was a guy anyway. He never loved me back-"

The last thing he expected, but Kalluto leaned forward and slapped him.

"Is that all you care about?!" Killua was in shock. It was the first and only time anyone had seen Kalluto get so angry and defensive since he was a toddler. "You say all this stuff about love but the fact that he's a boy turns you off so much, you're backing away?!"

"Of-Of course I don't care!" It was surprising, but he _really_ didn't.

Kalluto calmed but was still fuming. "Then why?"

Killua didn't want to bring this up. He had no choice. It was a painful wild card he didn't want to accept. "Kalluto. He was the one who killed Alluka. The contact lens only had his DNA."

"I…" The crippled boy sagged. "There's something you should know, Killua-nii."

The truth was he _wasn't _unconscious during that exchange in the cell with Maya in the sewers. Everything, from the first time Gon and the girl met, to the perfect setup of Alluka's murder, to his second older brother nearly dying from something so stupid, even to Gon's arrest. Kalluto was there for all of it, and he couldn't do a damn thing to save anyone. His last hope was spilling out what he knew now. Then he could only pray that it wasn't too late.

"Gon Freecss didn't try to murder the Zoldyck family. He saved us all."

It was like someone put a time bomb in the room. IVs were knocked over. The heart monitor sizzled to a straight line as wires ripped away. Killua had escaped the bed and tried making a break for it to the door. His head pounded, vision blurred instantaneously. He ran straight into a wall and knocked over a chair. The nurse from before had just returned with food and dropped the tray in shock.

Following the commotion, doctors rushed in to see what was going on. "Patient escaping! Call the guards!"

The largest doctor got a strong grip on his wrist. Killua punched the man right in the jaw only to cover his own fist in agony. His bones were as fragile as glass. But he had no time for self-pity. He tackled a male nurse and stumbled into the hallway, face first into a metal bench. It hurt like hell. Killua kept running anyway. He nearly made it too, until the guards in blue uniforms blocked his path.

One of them grabbed his legs. Killua fell to the floor.

"D-Damn it. LET ME GO!"

"Linda, get the sedatives!" The nurse nodded.

"N-No!" He was oblivious that without those tubes providing life support, his body was shutting down. A tear burned his eye. He screamed. "I don't…just let me find him first, **PLEASE**!"

"Here it is, sir." Killua struggled, tried to switch their positions, but a searing pain in his side kept him from moving. It was too late. The needle entered his arm. Suddenly he felt so, so weak. His body begged him to lose consciousness. He couldn't do anything. And it was his whole fucking fault.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

From then on, the medical team kept him chained to the bed. Knowing his reputation, they then chained the bed to the floor and added sleeping pills into his every meal. He could taste the foreign chemicals the very first day he ate. Since then, it was only when the equally hospitalized Kalluto brought something for him that he chowed down without resent.

A few days passed. Every morning when he woke up, there was a sense of urgency. He would ask that same nurse who was assigned his room when he could leave. He was hoping the one month recovery time was blowing it out of proportion. There was no way the poison deteriorated his organs that much. His body could heal faster. He felt fine. But each time he inquired, the countdown merely reduced by a single day. Another single day that Gon could've used to get further and further away from him. It didn't help that his family had expectations. His grandfather had called a few hours after Killua had gained consciousness. 35 days; that was his deadline. If after 35 days he wasn't recovered, they would cut off paying for his medical fees. That nurse even had the guts to tell him later that the month she claimed it would take in the beginning was being too generous. Most people would be bedridden for at least two.

Fuck this. He'll be out of here in three weeks.

It was the afternoon of the second week when his so called wife even cared he was gone enough to pay him a visit. He rather she run off a cliff and disappear somewhere. Only, no; there she stood, tall and proud and disgusted at the sight of him so powerless in this impoverished environment. Kalluto had his rehabilitation session to learn to live without legs so he was alone on this one.

Killua scoffed. "What do you want? I have no money."

"Oh," she feigned hurt. "Is that any way to talk to the woman who saved your business?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm disappointed in you, Killua. You forget the complications of you being here, don't you?" She stepped closer. He wanted nothing more than to crawl away until he fell off the mattress. But alas, the chains wouldn't let him. "The great heir Killua Zoldyck was nearly murdered by a group of his own double-crossing servants. Double-crossing servants who had used the resources of those same slaves under the scandalous contracts of his own company; such a thing could've had your business turned over to the authorities, could it not have?"

"Good riddance."

Corey ignored him in favor of checking her pedicured nails. "As widely used as enslavement is and as passive the police are to it, it's still illegal. Not to mention, a conflict within a respected power's own allies makes their customers lose trust. If it wasn't for my interference and that slut of a secretary of yours taking the blame, the company would be perished either by the law or on its own. You'd have no home to go back to, dear. Everything would be gone."

She didn't realize by now, her heels had stepped close enough for Killua to grab her by the collar while still chained to the bed post. In his short life, those blue eyes had scared many of full grown men and barbaric animals. Seemingly calm but without sympathy, they intimidated far more than any gun could. In his haste, Killua barely remembered that Gon's gender was still a secret. "What did you do to her?"

The woman gulped. Her husband had been snappish with her before but never as _murderous _as now. To quell the anger, she clumsily zipped open her purse and chucked a cell phone at his face. He caught it. Corey took this chance to slither out of his grip and make her way to the other side of the room. Killua searched through the wall of texts. He expected something other than her usual scandalous exchanges. Nothing was off.

The white-haired boy, close to the end of his patience, was about to interrogate her again when a thought crossed his mind. Wordless, he opened the photo gallery. It was the first one. A shot of Gon leaving his office in the dead of the night without permission. On the side of the picture marked 'July 10th', the same bittersweet night when Gon had rescued him and Alluka died right after. Killua looked up.

"So?"

"_So?_" She repeated in a shrill tone. "That snake was sneaking around your office to steal money the whole time! She wasn't the one who planted the poison gas but this photo was enough to frame her for it."

"What were _you_ doing sneaking around my office then?"

Corey froze. "W-Well, that doesn't matter…I was simply worried for my poor darling."

"No," Killua rolled his eyes. He caught her red handed. This wasn't the first time it happened but it was the first time he called her out on it. She simply didn't know. "I think you were the one trying to steal money from me. And oh! Now that you mention it, some importation documents on rare jewelry lines do go missing every 11 and a half days. It's been happening for about two years now. Do you know anything about that, _darling_?" He faked a sweet smile.

"Th-That's absurd! Blaming your own wife for something as horrendous as that, you should be ashamed!"

In her panic to escape the mind which was much too sharp for her to handle, she backed away. The last thing she needed now was for Killua to tell on her. Her family was greatly respected by Silva and the rest of the monarchs. Stealing was something to look down upon. It seemed small but the amount she stole was enough to be kicked out. She had to get out of here.

Practically sprinting out of the room as much as her three inch high-heels would let her, she had even forgotten to ask for her cell phone back. The room was silent once more.

Killua snorted. She wouldn't bother him again for a while. He averted his eyes to his lap, taking his own phone out to hold beside the hideous pink one that obnoxious woman left behind. He pressed a few buttons on his screen and maximized one of the photos from the gallery. Then, he stared at them. The action was pathetic, even creepy. But these were the only two pictures of Gon he had now. The limitless reel of film the real person could provide wasn't here anymore.

Eyeing that lopsided grin next to a surprised face, Killua tightened his hold on the sheets. He made a decision. Closing the magenta lid, his own phone was brought to its list of contacts. He texted an acquaintance then waited a few agonizing minutes before an alert lit up.

_[16:43:09] 'Hey! Killua-san, long time no talk!'_

It was almost like this person didn't have anything better to do.

_[16:43:31] 'Whatever. You still interested in Corey?'_

The next one took a while to receive. Killua disposed of the idea that he had been too insensitive to old wounds.

_[16:45:17] 'I already said I was past that and apologized. I actually have a very nice girlfriend who I love very much right now! Do you want to meet her sometime?'_

_[16:45:38] 'I want you to send the letter. Now.'_

_[16:45:50] 'So you've finally fallen and decided to ditch her? ;D Oooh, who's the lucky girl?!'_

Killua blushed.

_[16:46:12] 'Just shut up and do it, Pariston. And remember not to put your signature on it. Use the black market mail service too.'_

_[16:46:25] 'Aye aye. Just invite me to the wedding!'_

Killua sighed. He deleted the history of their exchange and lay back on the bed. Talking with Pariston always made him feel like he had just raced with the subway _and won_ about fifty times.

It was nearly two years ago. Killua had moved here to inherit the business despite being underage. Meanwhile the egotistic and slightly richer maniac had been here on vacation with his colleagues. Corey had fallen for Pariston's money at first sight. At the time she and Killua had only been engaged about a month. Yet she willingly left the building every night to cheat on him with the blond. The sleeping in hotels and back alleys continued for well over half of Pariston's stay. Killua found out on her third heist but didn't really care. His parents would only force him in another marriage if he said anything.

Then, one late night as Killua was leaving his office, an invoice that Pariston wanted to speak with him privately came in. What came next shocked him. The man very nearly got on his knees and apologized for everything. It was so out of character that Killua spat out his drink. It turns out Pariston met with one of his old high school crushes a while ago and had an epiphany that what he was doing was all wrong.

"_It's fine." Killua wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I barely know Corey."_

"_WHAT?" The eccentric man screamed. "But you two are engaged and in love, right?!"_

"_No."_

_Pariston looked to the ceiling in thought. "Well, she does seem a little shallow for you."_

"_You can say it. She's a whore."_

"_But aside from that, what I did was still of disrespect to you, Mr. Zoldyck. Is there a way I can repay you?"_

"_No, not really."_

"…" _Pariston stood. "Have you ever been in love before, Mr. Zoldyck?"_

"_It doesn't exist."_

"_You're so depressing! Not to mention young to be saying such things. It only makes me want to help out more. What will happen when you do fall in love?"_

"_I don't care about that kind of stuff."_

"_Ah, but when it does happen, I'll be here to help you, Killua-san!" Apparently they were close enough to be on first name basis. "I am just a call away."_

Pariston had spent the rest of the hour left of their serious meeting coming up with some plan equivalent to the decency of one of those schemes high school girls came up with to become prom queen. Corey was overly clingy to him and obviously married for money. He wrote a letter of proposal to her using that encrypted romantic talk women loved. The note said to meet in a town in the middle of the mountains halfway across the world where Pariston would ultimately never show up. The transportation tickets there and off were godly expensive. Killua nagged him to cut it out until he was assured this letter would only be sent in case of a love-related emergency, whatever that meant.

The idiot had left the office after that. Killua thought that was it until Pariston called him every day in the middle of work, claiming that he wouldn't stop until he agreed to it. When Killua finally did, the CEO was warned to set Corey off somehow so she was convinced she had to divorce him first. He knew calling her out on her long time criminal record of stealing the company's belongings added to the letter was enough for her to take off.

Killua lifted an arm to cover his eyes. So this was it. He decided his feelings for Gon were too strong to deal with Corey anymore. His mother would yell. But his father would cooperate, still leave him with the minimal freedom he was bestowed, as long as he married someone else soon.

It was the first risk of his life Killua was willing to take.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

On the morning he was discharged, it had been exactly 19 days since he first got here. The medical team called his quick recovery a miracle of sorts. His parents would've just nodded and said it was natural for a pure bred Zoldyck. But while Killua's immune system fought and cells regenerated at alarming speed, Kalluto's condition was on a standstill. When it did progress, it healed at a snail's pace. Killua didn't want to leave his brother by himself. Only no, Kalluto insisted waiting here was the least he could do. "Bring Gon-nii-san back please." The younger refused to say more.

Killua stood from the bed and stretched the second the nurse un-cuffed his chains. It was good to be out of here. Ironically, the only money he had on him was that same dusty secretary check. His wallet had been pick-pocketed sometime on the way to the hospital by one of the shady patients. He would have to put what he had left to good use. The curtains went up so he could change back into street clothes. All he had to do now was sign his name and leave.

As he moved the sheets aside, he noticed the nurse was still in the room. She was an older woman, around her forties. Some of the machines were being shut down and put away for inventory. Killua shrugged and walked up to her.

"Thanks."

She was spacing out. "Huh?"

"I said thanks, for looking after me." With his breakdown, he was surprised she didn't drop out. If only the one who took care of Alluka was her instead. "I know I was a pain. It's not the hospital. I just can't stay here, that's all."

"Oh, no problem at all! It's my job after all."

Killua nodded in acknowledgement. Assuming that was the end, he turned to make his way to the door. His thoughts wandered to his destination. As much as Corey's visit ticked him off, it did leave him an irrefutable hint where Gon would be. He could only hope, as Kalluto had, that it wasn't too late.

"Wait! You left this…behind, sir…" Caught off guard, Killua took one look at what the object was and snatched it away. He quickly stuffed it into his coat pockets, embarrassed. Now, it would be fine if what he forgot beneath the pillow was simply his cell phone. Everyone makes that mistake once in a while. But the screen was open to that same picture of him and Gon standing in the elevator. He knew he should've had it on energy save mode.

"I know that little boy."

Killua jolted out of his flustered state. "You what…?"

"Well, at least I've seen him. He was with this red-haired man who looked like a clown."

"What?! Where?! When? H-How was he?" The questions spilled from his mouth before he could control them.

"A-Ah, no; it was a few months ago." The nurse was slightly taken back by her patient's usually cool demeanor breaking. "He…I think he was a slave. The man he was with kept buying women's clothing for him. Please understand. I was a desperate woman back then. While the man was paying, I tried to steal his wallet and had my finger sliced off, as you can see here." Linda held up her hand. "It was then I knew that where that boy was headed would be a cruel place."

"Oh…" Killua deflated. He seemed disappointed.

"Despite that, the boy handed me 900 yen as a tip. 900 yen is not enough to buy anything these days. But it was probably all he had, and he gave it to someone as filthy as me anyway…" She lowered her head and Killua listened silently. "A week later, I sold the store. The truth was all the clothes were fraud and I used the change rooms to pick pocket. It was a dishonest business. Now I work full time here. That boy…he really inspired me."

"Are you stupid?"

Her head shot up. "Pardon?"

"He didn't do that to inspire anyone. That would be too conditional…" Killua trailed, stared at some invisible spot on the other end of the hall. His eyes blank, grew warmer. Following, a smile soon marred his face. So he wasn't the only one. "He just did it because he wanted to, old lady. But congrats anyway."

When he finally left that dreaded but life-saving place, Killua realized how much of a chore this was going to be. He had to tread the full length of two cities to make it the private lot of company headquarters. That was where the car he had gotten for his birthday had been parked for a month now. He could only hope it hadn't been vandalized. The travel would easily take half a day on foot and he didn't want to waste money. Killua wasn't that patient. On the way, he cashed out on the check before interrogating every upscale and third party prison cell in town.

No luck. Even with his sunglasses and worn out jacket to divert suspicion, none of the wards claimed to have heard of a Gon Freecss. They did have news of the state crimes of a secretary but didn't have any names to back them up. The sad thing was none of them were lying either. Wasn't Gon being framed supposed to make global news? No, it _should _have. What happened?

Someone must've covered it up. It was either out of their own boredom or benefit. And there's only one person in the world Killua could think of who was capable and willing to do something like that, a certain clown.

Killua grunted. There was _no_ way he was stooping so low as to ask that person what was going on. Or, at least, that's what he was planning until he walked in the final prison stop before he reached the corporation. Out of all the cells he'd visited, this one was probably the most hideous. At the same time, the complexity put into the security was unrivalled. A paradox, he observed; this must've been where the most dangerous criminals were placed. The lowest of the low deserved nothing more than the dirtiest yet most thoughtful living conditions.

In the front was a female police officer, working on the fingerprints of a teenage vandal. He cut to the chase. "Is Gon Freecss listed in your records?"

She paused, without moving, looked at him from the tips of her eyes, and then continued. "Classified information."

Killua pulled a 2000 yen bill and asked again. The woman snatched it. She observed the paper from a magnifying glass.

"Gon Freeccs: male, age unknown, race unknown, marital status unknown, eye color brown, hair color black, height 154 cm. He was charged on the account of two attempted assassinations and the first degree murder of over thirty people. On death row…"

Killua tensed. "Cou-"

"…but was bailed out 15 days ago."

His breath came back. "Who bailed him out?"

The woman held out an impatient hand. He glared at her and threw a 5000 yen bill into it this time.

"A blond male of high class paid 50,000,000 yen. He was 18 years old and bore the mark of the Kurta clan. It's the symbol for the most beautiful race of people in the world and popular in the slave market." The woman scoffed, envious; her first sign of emotion. "Now, why would some royal bachelor like that throw up a fortune to save a kid? If you ask me, it sounds way too good to be true. I bet he's planning to take him as a bride or sex slave. The boy's probably long-"

The stone counter beneath them cracked in half. The boom it made when it hit the floor silenced the entire building.

Killua's voice darkened. "_No one asked your opinion._"

He stomped off. In his haste, moment of irrational thinking, he swiped his cell phone from his pockets and typed a number at lightning speed. It rang twice. Before Killua had a chance to take it back, the call was answered.

"Why, hello!" The voice sang. "I'm afraid I'm in the middle of a luxurious foot massage right now and can't-"

"Hisoka! Cut the crap, WHERE IS HE?!"

"…Whoever are you talking about?"

"Just-!" Killua cut himself off. He took a breath. Of course, the clown had a tendency to know things, but even Hisoka couldn't know everything. He had to calm down first. "…The Kurta Clan; what's the status on them?"

"Hmm, the Kurta Clan." In the background, Killua swore he could hear the sounds of men with voices just as high and creepy as Hisoka giggling behind him. "They're extinct."

He blinked. "What…?! That's not possible. Just a month ago, there were camps everywhere!" No, it was possible. It wasn't the first time the greedy hands of mankind wiped out an entire race in such a short time. "They were Mainstream on the slave markets. You should know, you were supposed to buy some for us!" Killua nearly cringed. Somehow a sentence that he was indifferent to before just seemed so much more twisted and wrong now, like bitter candy.

"They're extinct." Hisoka repeated, "all of them…"

"Or at least I would like to say."

Killua could feel the growing despair in his stomach vanish.

"Tell me and I'll buy you a year's supply of bubble gum."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The property was enormous.

Really, Killua couldn't fathom what a mansion so unnecessarily extravagant was doing in the middle of farmland country. The size was a couple rooms wider. The gold alloys which made up the trim were slightly purer. Rays of sunlight even shone on crevices at a more convenient angle. They were small things which Killua knew made this place several billions of yen more expensive than the one his family owned back in France. For some reason this only pissed him off.

At the front of the open gates, children ran in on free will as long as the friendly-looking guard knew them personally. That was unusual. Killua walked up to him and asked what this building was for.

"You're new here." He pointed out the obvious. "This mansion has two purposes, young man. Twice a week on Tuesday's and Friday's, the main hall is where great musical legends meet for performances. Every day other than that, it converts to a work force dedicated to the enforcement for the rights of slaves around the world. If you would like a tour, come around one o'clock and…sir?"

Killua had spaced out. He snapped out of it when the man waved a hand in front of his face. He took a step back, his face blank. "You're talking about the rights of slaves?"

_That…sounds like something Gon would approve of._

"Yup. Now about the tour-"

"Is there a Kurta living here? I would like to speak with him, please."

The man's demeanor did a one-eighty. He asked for Killua's ID, which Killua didn't have on him due to the pick pockets. To think he was about to be kicked out on the excuse that people could fake their voices on the phone. He argued back that ID's could just as easily be forged. But the guard was well trained. Again, Killua was told to wait for the tour that was a whopping 4 hours from now.

"Fine, old man." Killua put a hand in his pockets. He didn't _want _to wait 4 hours; he'd already been put off for _20 days_. But it was his only option. He prepared to go into his car.

"Basho, hold on."

Killua paused, took in the sight of the teen walking towards them. He was blond, looked to be around 18 years old, and in clothes as exquisite as the ones his little brothers would wear. But what stood out were the symbols of the supposedly extinct Kurta clan which swirled around the edges of his tabard. This was the guy. Killua closed the door of the car without stepping in.

This boy, equal in height to him, merely motioned him to follow. Killua did, and that Basho character didn't stop them. They stepped into a garden of lilies and fountains in the shape of angels. It was so unlike his parents' backyard; littered with bloody predators, carnage, with no other life but poison ivy and leeches. It was used as a torture method for betrayers. Meanwhile this landscape was filled with children. It was easy to see which garden anyone would prefer. The sight had Killua gritting his teeth. And despite how welcoming everything here appeared, he could still feel himself being hated.

"Are you Killua Zoldyck?" The voice radiated maturity, so unlike his own childish one.

"Yeah, and who are you supposed to be?" The man opened the doors. They stepped into the grand performance hall made of silver. Killua was glad to be away from that dreadfully perfect place, only to be faced with another one. Thankfully, they weren't in the intimidating space for long. A slightly less complex lounging room with drinks was waiting for them to sit. It was almost as if this encounter was planned without flaw.

The blond who had glaring at him the whole time spoke as soon as the silence allowed it. "If you must, my name is Kurapika. I was recently promoted to the top position to legally fight against enslavement. Unlike you, Mr. Zoldyck, some of us suffered and seen the world in unfavorable ways enough to desire to do something about it. Believe me, the only reason I'm not kicking you out seems miniscule at the moment."

"You think I don't suffer?" Killua bit back without thinking. He ran a hand through his hair to calm down. He didn't come here to cat fight with some richer seemingly perfect and good willed blond, everything Killua wasn't, who Gon had probably chosen over him in a nanosecond. Killua shook his head. It happened again. "Look, I just want to know if Gon Freecss is here. I don't care about anything else you say."

The blond drank his tea. "Why is he so important to you?"

"Why is he so important to _you_?" So this person did know where Gon was.

"He saved a friend of mine and my life. Back then, we had run. We had run and left Gon behind to face his fate with only the pathetic yells and promise that we would repay him somehow. That friend is dead now, but I live on to uphold that promise. From what I heard, you can't relate to such feelings."

"I can." Killua's first non-hostile words felt pathetic but true. "Not physically, anyone can do that…"

Clearly, Kurapika had taken it the wrong way. "Gon isn't your slave anymore, Killua. Just leave."

"No. Not until Gon comes out here himself and tells me to leave, I'm staying put." It was all Killua could do. Counter those times his will so easily broke by not giving in starting now. He wasn't as stubborn as Gon but he sure as hell could try.

Kurapika sighed. It was still early morning. He supposed he could amuse him and play this game. There was no way Killua would win anyway. Kurapika brought out a book. They sat there for who knows how long, the resident of this house clearly waiting for the white-haired boss to either leave or let his well-trained guard down so the servants hiding by the chairs could kick him out.

Hours passed. It was soon clear that they all gravely underestimated the Zoldyck. Even just recovering, Killua knew he could hold up his mental defense for three days straight. Sometime halfway, the Kurta had switched to a thick folder of documents. And still, Killua stayed put, awareness strong, nothing but the sound of the page flipping as entertainment.

"Gon…he talks about you a lot."

Attention away from the painting of a horse, Killua hadn't realized it was already dark outside.

The firm blond eyed him. "Don't misunderstand. That 50,000,000 yen, I didn't use it to buy him back. He doesn't belong to you. He doesn't belong to me either. That money…was to buy his freedom."

"What are you blathering about?" Killua narrowed his eyes. His legs were cramping. He tired himself out just to be told _this_? "That's common sense."

For the first time, Kurapika smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Killua watched as the blond slowly packed away the mess on the counter along with the pile of books he had read in those hours. When he was done, Kurapika noted that the white-haired teen's guard still wasn't down. He sighed for a second time. "Walk back to the performance room and take the third hall from the left until the end. Turn left again past an auditorium, then right and keep going straight. You'll reach a door, that's where Gon is. But I'm telling you now. Whether Gon wants to go with you or not is completely his choice."

"Wait." Killua interrupted. "Aren't you two…espoused?"

Kurapika laughed, _actually_ laughed at him.

"So that's why you've been so stingy. Don't worry, I owe Gon my life but I do not think of him that way."

Killua gaped at his mistake. It was embarrassment on all different levels. He would've hit his head against the wall if Kurapika leaving the room and signaling the assassins in the shadows to stand down hadn't reminded him that this could all be a trap.

His suspicions were confirmed when, after taking the directions, the path had only led him outside. Were they trying to kick him out? But no, tall black gates indicated that it wasn't like the garden at the front. This one was private. It also resembled his family's backyard a lot more. Patches of dead grass, fallen trees, imperfection, Killua felt much more at home here.

Wearily, he treaded a path of dirt to the darkest side of the forest. It steered him to a muddy lake, not a fancy one but with real wildlife. He followed it downstream.. Even as the body of water snaked completely off the property, something told Killua to keep going. Nearly a block later, the canopy opened into a small clearing. What Killua found there made him wide-eyed.

In the center were two stone statues. The first was an old woman with an oddly-defined face, as if the one who carved this wasn't completely sure how to implement all the wrinkles without breaking the whole piece. In her hair was a familiar half-broken hair pin. He didn't know who this one was. At her feet were some words carved out that he couldn't make out from this distance. He ran to them. The second was a lot more familiar. With short-trimmed locks which reached his waist and a tattered ribbon, Killua nearly fell from surprise. He could make out a faint happy-happy-angry on the yellow cloth. This was supposed to be Alluka.

Someone behind him dropped a stick. By habit, Killua whipped around in a stance ready to pounce on the intruder. But he should've known. He should've been more careful. What he landed on instead was warm and soft, with spiked hair and chocolate brown eyes which looked at him in anguish. Before Killua could get past the shock, the one he'd been looking for was talking to him.

"Ki-Killua, please go away."

He swore he could feel the burn behind his eyes already. "What?"

"Don't follow me, just to do this…" Killua realized the position they were in. It was akin to the one a predator would be in before devouring its prey. He wanted to move off but couldn't. Something invisible was tying him down. He had a feeling it was the same thing that kept him from being able to look away from those brown eyes. "I don't want it. I don't want you to hate me anymore."

It was then Killua did the only thing he could think of. He smacked him upside the head.

Gon sat up. Killua fell off him. "Ow! Why'd you do that?!"

"Because you're a Grade A idiot!" Killua snarled, baring a finger against the other boy's thick skull. "I already said it a million times but you never listen. You're the one who should hate me! But you keep mixing it up because you're so…_you're so you_! This is really starting to piss me off!"

"That doesn't mean you can hit me! If you think I _can_ hate Killua, that makes Killua ten times the idiot I am! IDIOT!" Gon stuck his tongue out at him.

"WHAT?! Then you're an idiot _and _a moron!"

"If being an idiot _and_ a moron is better than being just an idiot like Killua, then I'm fine with it."

"THAT MAKES NO SENSE!"

"Why are you here, anyway?"

"I'm here because I lo-!"

Killua choked on his own words. He felt the breath leave him like a total coward. Gon stared at him confused, his own anger beginning to dissipate. Killua looked away. How could this be? He could even say this to Kalluto yet when it came to the actual person he meant it for, not be able to talk himself out of a paper bag. Killua chickened out at the last second. "I-I…what are the statues for?"

"Statues…?"

"I know you're the one who carved them. One of them is even Alluka, so I was wondering."

"It's a grave." This made Killua look up. "It's not complete. I still have to finish grandma then work on Mito-san, my mother, Ging, my pet dog Kon, the women who tried to convince me to escape, my friend Katzo, my neigh-uhm, a lot of people." Gon scratched the back of his head.

"O-Oh." Suddenly, Killua felt stupid. He had let himself go off the deep end when only one person close to him died. "That would take a while…"

"I think it's worth it." He watched as Gon stood and picked up the stick he dropped from before. "My aunt used to complain a lot. She wanted Ging to come back for leaving her sister with such a huge debt. She begged my mom to reconsider selling me to Chrollo to pay it off. She demanded grandma to help take care of me since the two of them being caught trying to break in and free me was my grandma's fault. But she was the first one to die. I remember realizing that the only reason she wanted so many things from everyone was because she's not a bad person."

"Since then, I realized how many things there were that they, the people I knew, wanted but could never have. Kurapika had me watch this weird documentary about human spirits coming back to life and wandering for eternity. They would try to fulfill their regrets but no one else remembers nor resolves them. I'm making these statues so that doesn't happen."

"Obviously that's made up baloney."

Gon giggled. "I know."

"Wouldn't you want them to come back though? After losing them to death, all those people…finding them again." Killua counted the drying blades of grass, thoughts of Alluka crossing his mind; Alluka playing dress up, Alluka buying him ice cream to share, him, Alluka, and Kalluto together. Yes, that would be nice.

A hand was shoved into his face. Gon had offered it to him so he could stand. He took it without thought. "Maybe, but if I did, I'd just be losing them even more."

Killua followed him to the first statue as the younger boy began carving. "What do you mean?"

"You find them but would not help them just so you can keep those people around? I think that's pretty close to losing them. You lose their place in your heart."

"You're not making sense again, Gon." Even though he said it, Killua had a joking smile on his face.

"Idiot."

They succumbed to a comfortable silence after that. The moon was beginning to rise up high in the sky. Soon it would be getting really late. The dark chill was becoming unbearable for the average strollers but neither seemed to mind, too lost in their own thoughts. From this proximity, for the first time, Killua noticed that Gon wasn't almost all skin and bones as he was before. With alert muscles and a tanned complexion, he had probably gained a healthy 20 pounds. It was weight that he needed to be rid of the frailty that hid his boyish features. Boyish features that Killua once thought would turn him off but he found actually made Gon more endearing.

"I guess this means you found me."

"Huh? What did you say?" Gon looked up, not hearing Killua due to the wind.

It suddenly wasn't so hard, so strenuous to say it anymore. The words didn't tangle in his throat nor make him go weak in the knees, flooding his mind with the consequences before they even left his mouth. That's right. No matter what happened, he would never lose Gon, not as long as that excited ache in his chest lived on. He felt at ease, as if it was the most natural thing to do. Gon just had that effect on him. Killua took a breath.

"I said I really love you too, Gon. Will you come back with me?"

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

Two weeks later, it was announced that Kalluto had passed away. He had a membrane-attacking infection taken from the wounds on his legs that couldn't be cured. It turns out he had been diagnosed since a few days into his stay at the hospital but didn't tell anyone. Most experienced brain failure within a week. Kalluto hung on until the moment his brother left the building, going into a coma soon after. He was shipped away in a casket and burned before Killua even started working again. Illumi had arranged it that way.

The office was silent, dwindling into the late hours of the night. Killua sat straight on his chair, signing the last form before laying his head against the hardwood, tired. Everyone went along with their business as usual. No one questioned him. It was as if nothing had happened. He had the last say. So when he released the 50 page proposal on the release of every girl they owned and to start fresh as a normal modeling agency, it was done with the snap of his fingers. Just as well, it gave him more time to sleep and less time dealing with government policies.

Killua pushed himself up off the desk. It was another early morning tomorrow. He locked the office and took the stairs to the top floor. Ever since Kalluto told him what Alluka had been doing in his bedroom, he didn't have the stomach to sleep in there again. A different, bigger one had been arranged for him.

He couldn't help but find the hallways too silent, the rooms too empty as he made his way down the corridor. The darkness became a bit too much at times. Killua leaned against a wall, staring at the elevator door for some sweet moments. Other than Hisoka, Illumi, and his own room, the entire floor was deserted. He hated it. He felt alone.

But no; Killua shook his head. He hadn't lost anyone. The worst thing he could do was forget, store the painful memories at the very back of his head until they spilled out, like he would've wrongfully done. When he did would be the moment they were truly gone. Suddenly, facing them straight on didn't seem as agonizing. With a small burst of vigor he didn't know he had, he pushed himself off the wall and continued on his way, taking a quick look at those three doors where his brothers and he used to reside right beside each other. They should be cleaned out soon.

When he reached his own room, he threw his jacket in the direction of the couch and flopped on the bed. In seconds, he felt his head surrendering to sleep. He was about to black out until a low scraping sound grated against his eardrums. Killua groaned and turned on the lamp.

"Are you still doing that?"

No response. Killua smirked. He cloaked an arm around the figure and forced him to lie down. A small gasp and the crinkling of sheets, Killua had his target in his arms with his mess of white hair cuddling against the other's chest. He registered the body struggling beneath him but didn't care.

"Go to sleep, Gon…"

"But I'm still not done Kalluto's carving! Hey! Killua…!" The boy tried turning sideways but the dominant one simply adapted by holding his legs down. He pinched the other's ear, no effect. Within moments, Gon knew he had lost this round. He gave an angry pout. This was frustrating beyond belief.

Killua lifted his head and looked up at Gon, eyes clear. "We have to wake up early tomorrow. I was going to take you somewhere, remember?"

"I don't need that much sleep."

"You have to be awake though." He reassured.

Gon thought he was trying to annoy him. The boy was about to protest but was stopped by those sapphire eyes. They silently pleaded. Killua wasn't lying. Gon didn't know what was going on. He only knew there was no excuse for giving in. He had control of his body when he found himself nodding, relaxing in Killua's hold, and accepting the following warm kiss they shared before falling asleep in each other's arms.

Needless to say, the extra sleep was no help when Killua got down on one knee.

-H-H-H-I've-Found-You-End-H-H-H-

**35 pages. This is the longest chapter I've ever written. These two are worth it.**


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